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LACON; 



MANY THINGS IN FEW WORDS: 



TO THOSE WHO THINE. 
BY THE REV. C: C. COLTQN, A. M. 



"The proper study of mankind is man." 

COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME. 

REVISED EDITION. 
WITH AN INDEX. 



NEW YORK: 



PUBLISHED BY E. KEARNY, 
56 GOLD-STREET. 



* *• 



pH 






ADVERTISEMENT 



TO THE FIRST AMERICAN STEREOTYPE EDITION. 



The Publisher of this stereotype edition of Lacon has long 
found it a subject of complaint with his acquaintances that 
they could not procure a good copy of this work for their 
libraries. The editions which have been published, in thia 
country, are not only printed on bad paper, but also abound 
with typographical and grammatical errors. Great care has 
been taken to have this edition correct in both those particu- 
lars, and it is confidently expected that it will prove so to be. 
He has also, — for the satisfaction of that large class of readers 
who have not studied the language, — had the numerous Latin 
quotations in the work translated, and put in the form of notes, 
at the bottom of each page. 



Reentered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1836, by 
CJ. Wells, in the Clerk's office of the District Court of New York. 



°ffT 

J£%£ in 

, JiMuSf OF C0MGRE1S 



/ ¥3 & 



AT 



PREFACE 



There are three difficulties in authorship ; to write 
any thing worth the publishing — to find honest men 
to publish it — and to get sensible men to read it. Lit- 
erature has now become a game ; in which the Book- 
sellers are the kings; the Critics, the knaves; the 
Public, the pack; and the poor Author, the mere 
table, or thing played upon. 

I For the last thirty years, the public mind has had 
such interesting and rapid incidents to witness, and 
to reflect upon, and must now anticipate some that 
will be still more momentous, that any thing like dul- 
ness or prosing in authorship, will either nauseate, or 
be refused ; the realities of life have pampered the 
public palate with a diet so stimulating, that vapidity 
has now become as insipid as water to a dram-drink- 
er, or sober sense to a fanatic. 

i The attempts however of dulness, are constantly 
repeated, and as constantly fail. For the misfortune 
is that the head of dulness, unlike the tail of the tor- 
pedo, loses nothing of her benumbing and lethargi- 
zing influence, by reiterated discharges ; horses may 
ride over her and mules and asses may trample upon 
her, but with an exhaustless and a patient perversity, 
she continues her narcotic operation even to the end. 
In fact, the press was never so powerful in quantity, 
and so weak in quality ', as at the present day ; if ap- 
plied to it, the simile of Virgil must be reversed, 
1 Nbn trunco sed frondibus efficit umbram?* .It is 
in literature as in finance — much paper and,m*^b #.#*. 
poverty may coexist. 

It may happen that I myself am now committing 

, • The leaves, not the trunk) cast the shadow.— Vim. 



ir PREFACE. 

the very crime that I think I am censuring. But 
while justice to my readers compels me to admit that 
I write, because I have nothing to do, justice to my- 
self induces me to add, that I will cease to write the 
moment I have nothing to say. Discretion has been 
termed the better part of valour, and it is more certain 
that diffidence is the better part of knowledge. Where 
I am ignorant, and know that I am so, I am silent. 
That Grecian gave a better reason for his taciturnity, 
than most authors for their loquacity, who observed, 
1 What was to the purpose I could not say ; and what 
was not to the purpose I would not say? And yet 
Shakspeare has hinted, that even silence is not al- 
ways c commendable ;' since it may be foolish, if we 
are wise, but wise if we are foolish. The Grecian's 
maxim would indeed be a sweeping clause in litera- 
ture ; it would reduce many a giant to a pigmy ; many 
a speech to a sentence ; and many a folio to a primer. 
As the fault of our orators is, that they get up to make 
a speech, rather than to speak ; so the great error of 
our authors is, that they sit down to make a book rath- 
er than to write. To combine profundity with per- 
spicuity, wit with judgment, solidity with vivacity, 
truth with novelty, and all of them with liberality — 
who is sufficient for these things? a very serious 
question ; but it is one which authors had much bet- 
ter propose to themselves before publication, than have 
proposed to them by their editors after it. 

I have thrown together in this work, that which is 
the result of some reading and reflection ; if it be but 
little, I have taken care that the volume which contains 
it, shall not be large. I plead the privilege which a 
preface allows to an author for saying thus much of 
myself 5 since if a writer be inclined to egotism, a 
preface is the most proper place for him to be deliv- 
ered of it; for prefaces are not always read, and ded- 
ications seldom ; books, says my lord Bacon, should 
have no patrons but truth and reason. Even the at- 
tractive prose of Dryden, could not dignify dedica- 
tions ; and perhaps they ought ffever to be resorted to, 



PREFACE. t 

being as derogatory to the writer, as dull to the read- 
er, and when not prejudicial, at least superfluous. If 
a book really wants the patronage of a great name, it 
is a bad book, and if it be a good book, it wants it not. 
Swift dedicated a volume to Prince Posterity, and 
there was a manliness in the act. Posterity will prove 
a patron of the soundest judgment, as unwilling to 
give, as unlikely to receive, adulation. But Posterity 
. is not a very accessible personage ; he knows the high 
lvalue of that which he gives, he therefore is extremely 
particular as to what he receives. Very few of the 
presents that are directed to him, reach their destin- 
ation. Some are too light, others too heavy, since, it 
J is as difficult to throw a straw any distance, as a ton. 
1 1 have addressed this volume to those who think, and 
•some may accuse me of an ostentatious independence, 
in presuming to inscribe a book to so small a minority. 
t But a volume addressed to those who think, is in fact 
addressed to all the world ; for although the propor- 
tion of those who do think be extremely small, yet 
every individual flatters himself that he is one of the 
number. In the present rage for all that is marvellous 
and interesting, when writers of undoubted talent con- 
sider only what will sell, and readers only what will 
please, it is perhaps a bold experiment to send a vol- 
ume into the world, whose very faults, (manifold as 
I fear they are,) will cost more pains to detect, than 
sciolists would feel inclined to bestow, even if they 
were sure of discovering nothing but beauties. Some 
also of my conclusions will no doubt be condemned 
by those who will not take the trouble of looking into 
the postulata ; for the soundest argument will pro- 
duce no more conviction in an empty head, than 
the most superficial declamation ; as a feather and a 
guinea fall with equal velocity in a vacuum. 

The following pages, such as they are, have cost 
me some thought to write, and they may possibly cost 
others some to read them. Like Demosthenes, who 
talked Greek to the waves, I have continued my task, 
with the hope of instructing others with the certainty 
t* 



vi PREFACE. 

of improving myself. \ Labor ipse voluptasJ* It is 
much safer to think what we say, than to say what we 
think ; I have attempted both. This is a work of no 
party, and my sole wish is, that truth may prevail in 
the church, and integrity in the state, and that in both, 
the old adage may be verified, that ' the men of prin- 
ciple may be the principal men? Knowledge is in- 
deed as necessary as light, and in this coming age 
most fairly promises to be as common as water, and 
as free as air. But as it has heen wisely ordained 
that light should have no colour, water no taste, and 
air no odour, so knowledge also should be equally pure, 
and without admixture. If it comes to us through the 
medium of prejudice, it will be discoloured ; through 
the channels of custom, it will be adulterated ; through 
the gothic walls of the college, or of the cloister, it 
will smell of the lamp. 

He that studies books alone, will know how things 
ought to be ; and he that studies men, will know how 
things are ; and it would have been impossible to have 
written these pages, without mixing somewhat more 
freely with the world, than inclination might prompt, 
or judgment approve. For observation, made in the 
cloister, or m the desert, will generally be as obscure 
as the one, and as barren as the other : but he that 
would paint with his pencil, must study originals, and 
not be over fearful of a little dust. In fact, every au- 
thor is a far better judge of the pains that his efforts 
have cost him, than any reader can possibly be ; but 
to what purpose he has taken those pains, this is a 
question on which his readers will not allow the au- 
thor a voice, nor even an opinion : from the tribunal 
of the public there is no appeal, and it is fit that it 
should be so, otherwise we should not only have riv- 
ers of ink expended in bad writing, but oceans more 
in defending it ; for he that writes in a bad style is 
sure to retort in a worse. 

I have availed myself of examples both ancient and 

* ttahour is itself a pleasure. — I* UB * 



PREFACE. rii 

modern, wnerever they appeared likely to illustrate, or 
strengthen my positions : but I am net so sanguine as 
to expect that all will draw the - I usions from 

the same premises. I hive not forgotten the obser- 
vation, of him who said, that ; in the same meadow, 
the ox seeks the herbage ; f i d ^. the hare ; c 
stork, the lizard.' Times also of profound peace and 
tranquillity are most propitious :: era^ literary pur- 
suit. •' Satur est. cum elicit Hpratius euge.** We 
know that Malherbe. on hearing a piosework if great 
merir -: Iryly asked if it would redu : 

of bread ! neither was his appreciation of poetry 
much higher, when he observed, that a good poet was 
of no more service to the church or the state, than a 
good player at ninepins ! I 

■ anecdotes that are interspersed in these pages. 
have seldom been cited for their own sake, but chiefly 
for their application, nor can I see why the Mc 
should be denied those examples so useful to the His- 
torian. The lover of _ lions, if he 
finds nothing here to his taste : but like him who 
wrote a book ; cle omnibus rebus, et quibusdam 
aliis.'T I may perhaps be accused of looking into 
even* thing, but of seeing into nothing. 

There are two things, cheap and common enough 
when separated, but as costly in value, as irresistible 
in power, when combined — truth and novelty. Their 
union is like that of steam and of fire, which nothing 
can overcome. Truth and novelty, when united, must 
overcome the whole superincumbent pressure of error 
and of prejudice, whateverbe its weight : and the effects 
will be proportionate to the resistance. But the moral 
earthquake, unlike the natural, while it convulses the 
nations, reforms them too. On subjects indeed, on 
which mankind have been thimhng for so many thou- 
sands of years, it will often happen, tnat whatever is 
absolutely new. may have the misfortune to be abso- 

* When Horace shouts, bravo 1 be surt he has dintd. — Pur. 
t About all things, and some more. — Pub. 



vixl PREFACE. 

lutely false. It is a melancholy consideration for au- 
thors, that there is very little i Terra Incognita? in 
literature, and there now remain to us moderns, only 
two roads to success ; discovery and conquest. If in- 
deed we can advance any propositions that are both 
true and new, these are indisputably our own, by right 
of discovery ; and if we can repeat what is old, more 
briefly and brightly than others, this also becomes our 
own by right of conquest. The pointed propriety of 
Pope, was to all his readers originality, and even the 
lawful possessors could not always recognise their 
own property in his hands. Few have borrowed more 
freely than Gray and Milton, but with a princely pro- 
digality, they have repaid the obscure thoughts of 
others, with far brighter of their own; like the ocean 
which drinks up the muddy water of the rivers, from 
the flood, but replenishes them with the clearest from 
the shower. These reflections, however they may 
tend to show the difficulties all must encounter who 
aim at originality, will, nevertheless in nowise tend 
to diminish the number of those who will attempt to 
surmount them, since 'fools rush in, where angels 
fear to tread? In good truth, we should have a glo- 
rious conflagration, if all who cannot put fire into 
their works, would only consent to put their works in- 
to the fire. But this is an age of economy, as well as 
of illumination, and a considerate author will not 
rashly condemn his volumes to that devouring ele- 
ment, 'flammis emendatioribusj* who reflects that 
the pastry-cook and the confectioner are sure to put 
good things into his pages, if he fail to do it himself. 
With respect to tbe style I have adopted in the fol- 
lowing sheets, I have attempted to make it vary with 
the subject ; avoiding all pomp of words, where there 
was no corresponding elevation of ideas ; for such tur- 
bidity, although it may be as aspiring as that of a bal- 
loon, is also as useless. I have neither spare time for 
superfluous writing, nor spare money for superfluous 

* The amending flames. — Pub. 



PREFACE. it 

printing, and shall be satisfied, if I have not missed 
of brightness, in pursuit of brevity. It has cost me 
more time and pains to abridge these pages than to 
write them. Perhaps that is nearly the perfection of 
good writing, which is original, but whose truth alone 
prevents the reader from suspecting that it is so : and 
which effects that for knowledge which the lens effects 
for the sunbeam, when it condenses its brightness, in 
order to increase its force. How far the following efforts 
will stand the test of this criterion, it is not for me to 
determine ; to know is one thing, to do is another ; 
and it may be observed of good writing, as of good 
blood, that it is much easier to say what it is com- 
posed of, than to compose it. 

Most of the maxims and positions advanced in the 
present volume, are founded on two simple truisms, 
that men are the same ; and that the passions are the 
powerful and disturbing forces, the greater or the less 
prevalence of which, gives individuality to character. 
But we must not only express clearly, but think deep- 
ly, nor can we concede to Buffon that style alone is 
that quality that will immortalize an author. The es- 
says of Montaigne, and the analogy of Butler, would 
live forever, in spite of their style. Style is indeed 
the valet of genius, and an able one too ; but as the 
true gentleman will appear, even in rags, so true gen- 
ius will shine even through the coarsest style. 

But above all I do most earnestly hope, that none 
will accuse me of usurping on this occasion, the chair 
of the Moralist, or presuming to deliver any thing here 
advanced, as oracular, magisterial, dictatorial, or c ex 
cathedra? I have no opinions that I would not most 
willingly exchange for truth ; I may be sometimes 
wrong, I may be sometimes right ; at all events discus- 
sion may be provoked, and as this cannot be done with- 
out thought, even that is a good. I despise dogma- 
tism in others, too much to indulge it myself: I have 
not been led to these opinions by the authority of great 
names : for I have always considered rather what is 
said than who says it; and the consequence of the 



x PREFACE. 

argument, rather than the consequence of him who 
delivers it. It is sufficiently humiliating to our na 
ture, to reflect that our knowledge is but as the rivu 
let, our ignorance as the sea. On points of the high- 
est interest, the moment we quit the light of revelation, 
we shall find that Platonism itself is intimately con- 
nected with Pyrrhonism, and the deepest inquiry with 
the darkest doubt. 

In an age remarkable for good reasoning and bad 
conduct, for sound rules and corrupt manners, when 
virtue fills our heads, but vice our hearts ; when those 
who would fain persuade us that they are quite sure 
of heaven, appear to be in no greater hurry to go there 
than other folks, but put on the livery of the best mas- 
ter only to serve the worst ; — in an age when modesty 
herself is more ashamed of detection than of delin- 
quency ; when independence of principle consists in 
having no principle on which to depend ; and free- 
thinking not in thinking freely, but in being free from 
thinking ; — in an age when patriots will hold any 
thing except their tongues; keep any thing except 
their word ; and lose nothing patiently except their 
character ; — to improve such an age must be difficult, 
to instruct it dangerous ; and he stands no chance of 
amending it, who cannot at the same time amuse it. 

That author, however, who has thought more than 
he has read, read more than he has written, and writ- 
ten more than he has published, if he does not com- 
mand success, has at least deserved it. In the article 
of rejection and abridgment, we must be severe for 
ourselves, if we wish for mercy from others ; since for 
one great genius who has written a little book, we have 
a thousand little geniuses, who have written great 
books. A volume, therefore, that contains more words 
than ideas, like a tree that has more foliage than fruit, 
may suit those to resort to, who want not to feast, but 
to dream and to slumber ; but the misfortune is, that 
in this particular instance, nothing can equal the in 
gratitude of the public, who were never yet known to 
have the slightest compassion for those authors who 



PREFACE. Si 

have deprived themselves of sleep, in order to procure 
it for their readers. 

With books, as with companions, it is of more con- 
sequence to know which to avoid, than which to 
choose ; for good books are as scarce as good compan- 
ions, and in both instances, all that we can learn from 
bad ones is> that so much time has been worse than 
thrown away. That writer does the most, who gives 
his reader the most knowledge, and takes from him the 
least time. That short period of a short existence, 
which is rationally employed, is that which alone de- 
serves the name of life ; and that portion of our life 
is most rationally employed, which is occupied in en- 
larging our stock of truth, and of wisdom. I do not 
pretend to have attained this, I have only attempted it. 
One thing I may affirm, that I have first considered 
whether it be worth while to say any thing at all, be- 
fore I have taken any trouble to say it well ; knowing 
that words are but air, and that both are capable of much 
condensation. Words indeed are but the signs and 
counters of knowledge, and their currency should be 
strictly regulated by the capital which they represent. 

I have said that the maxims in the following pages 
are written upon this principle — that men are the 
same ; upon this alone it is that the sacred maxim 
which forms the golden hinge of our religion, rests 
and revolves, c Do unto thy neighbour as thou wouldst 
that he should do unto thee? The proverbs of Solo- 
mon suit all places and all times, because Solomon 
knew mankind, and mankind are ever the same. No 
revolution has taken place in the body, or in the mind. 
Four thousand years ago, men shivered with frost, 
and panted with heat, were cold in their gratitude, 
and ardent in their revenge. Should my readers 
think some of my conclusions too severe, they will 
in justice recollect, that my object is truth, that my 
subject is man, and that a handsome picture cannot 
represent deformity. 

The political principles contained in the following 
pages, are such, that whoever avows them will be con- 



xii PREFACE. 

sidered a Tory by the Whigs, and a Whig by the 
Tories; for truth, no less than virtue, not unfre- 
quently forms the middle point between two extremes. 
Where one party demands too much, and the other 
is inclined to concede too little, an arbitrator will 
please neither, by recommending such measures as 
would eventually serve both. I have, however, nei- 
ther the hope nor the fear, that my opinions on poli- 
tics, or any other subject, will attract much attention. 
The approbation of a few discerning friends, is all 
the reward I wish for my labours ; and the four lines 
which form the commencement of my Poem of c Hy~ 
pocrisyj shall make the conclusion of this Preface, 
since the sentiments they contain, are as applicable 
to prose as to verse. 

Two things there are, confound the Poet's lays, 
The scholar's censure — and the blockhead's praise; 
That glowing page with double lustre shines, 
When Pope approves, and Dennis damns the tenets 1 

London, January 1st, 1820. 



INTRODUCTION 

TO 

THE SECOND VOLUME, 



I know not that I should have attempted a second 
volume of Lacon, if the first had not met with some 
encouragement. Its reception has proved that my book 
has been purchased at least by the many ; and I have 
testimonies far more gratifying, that it has not been 
disapproved of by the few. He that aspires to pro- 
duce a work that shall instruct and amuse the un- 
learned, without displeasing or disgusting the scholar, 
proposes to himself an object more attainable perhaps 
on any other theme, than on that which I have adopt- 
ed ; for on this subject all men are critics, although 
very few are connoisseurs ; the man of the world is 
indignant at being supposed to stand in need of in- 
formation, and the philosopher feels that he is above 
it ; the old will not quit the school of their own ex- 
perience, and hope is the only moralist that has any 
weight with the young. There are many things on 
which even a coxcomb will receive instruction with 
gratitude, as for instance, a knowledge of the lan- 
guages, or of the mathematics, because his pride is 
not wounded by an admission of his ignorance as to 
those sciences to which he has never been introduced. 
But if you propose to teach him any thing new con- 
cerning himself, the world, and those who live in it, 
the case is widely altered. He finds that he has 
been conversant all his life with these things, sus- 
pects that here he knows at least as much as his 
master, becomes quite impatient of information, and 
often finishes by attempting to instruct his instructer. 

* The second volume is added, making the entire work, and 
• the only complete edition ever published in this country. 



xiv *> fc ; INTRODUCTION. 

It is tru& that he has made Tery laudable use of his 
eyes, since his opera-glass has given him an insight 
into others, and his looking-glass has helped him to 
some knowledge of himself. His ears indeed have 
had a very easy time of it, but their inactivity has 
been dearly purchased, at the expense of his tongue , 
he feels however, from his experience, that he has 
had opportunities at least of observing, and he fancies 
| from his vanity, that he has improved them. Can 
one (says he) be ignorant of those things that are so 
constantly and so closely around us, and about us . 
he that runs, he thinks, may read that lucid volume 
whose pages are days, whose characters are men. 
But too close a contiguity is as inimical to distinct 
vision, as too great a distance ; and hence it happens 
that a man often knows the least of that which is 
most near to him — even his own heart ; but if we are 
ignorant of ourselves, a knowledge of others is built 
upon the sand. On this subject, however, nothing 
is more easy than to talk plausibly, and few things 
more difficult than to write profoundly ; thoroughly to 
succeed, requires far more experience than I possess, 
or ever shall. I am, however, fully satisfied of the 
Utility of a work similar to that in which I am en- 
gaged, and hope what little encouragement I have 
met with may stimulate those to attempt something 
better, who are deeply conversant, not only with the 
living, but with the dead— not only with books, but 
with men— not only with the hearts of others, but with 
their own. The moral world will by no means repay 
our researches with such rich discoveries as the na- 
tural 5 yet where we cannot invent, we may at least 
improve 5 we may give somewhat of novelty to that 
which was old, condensation to that which was diffuse, 
perspicuity to that which was obscure, and currency 
to that which was recondite. A Hume may soar in- 
deed somewhat higher than a Davy, but he will meet 
with more disappointments ; with wings that could 
reach the clouds, but not with strength of pinion that 
could pierce them. Hume was at times as incompre- 



INTRODUCTION. xv 

nensible to himself, as invisible to other3 ; lost in re- 
gions where he could not penetrate, nor we pursue y 
for it is as rare for experiment to give us nothing but' 
conjecture, as for speculation to give us nothing but 
truth. In this walk of science, however, if we know 
but little, upon that little we are becoming gradually, 
more agreed ; perhaps we have discovered that the 
prize is not worth the contention. Hence there is a 
kind of alphabet of first principles, now established in' 
the moral world, which is not very likely to be over- 
turned by any new discoveries. But principles, how- 
ever correct, may sometimes be wrongly, and how- 
ever true, may sometimes be falsely applied; and 
none are so likely to be so, as those that from having 
been found capable of effecting so much, are expected 
to form all. An Indian has very few tools, and it is 
astonishing how much he accomplishes with them; 
but he sometimes fails ; for although his instruments 
are of general, they are not of universal application. 
There are two principles, however, of established 
acceptance in morals ; first, that self-interest is the 
mainspring of all our actions, and secondly, that 
utility is the test of their value. Now there are some 
cases where thes^ maxims are not tenable, because 
they are not true ; for some of the noblest energies 
of gratitude, of affection, of courage, and of benevo- 
lence, are not resolvable into the first. If it be said, 
indeed, that these estimable qualities may after all be 
traced to self-interest, because all the duties that flow 
from them are a source of the highest gratification to 
those that perform them, this I presume savours rath- 
er too much of an identical proposition, and is only 
a roundabout mode of informing us that virtuous 
men will act virtuously. Take care of number one, 
says the worldling, and the Christian says so too ; for 
he has taken the best care of number one, who takes 
care that number one shall go to heaven ; that bless- 
ed place is full of *hose same selfish beings who, by 
having constantly done good to others, have as con- 
stantly gratified ' themselves. I humbly conceive, 



ivi INTRODUCTION. 

therefore, that it is much nearer the truth, to say that 
all men have an interest in being good, than that all 
men are good from interest. As to the standard of 
Utility, this is a mode of examining human actions, 
that looks too much to the event, for there are occa- 
sions where a man may effect the greatest general 
good, by the smallest individual sacrifice 5 and there 
are others where he may make the greatest individual 
sacrifice, and yet produce but little general good. If 
indeed the moral philosopher is determined to do all 
his work with the smallest possible quantity of tools, 
and would, wish to cope with the natural philosopher, 
Who has explained such wonders, from the two sim 
pie causes of impulse and of gravity, in this case he 
must look out for maxims as universal as those occa- 
sions to which he would apply them. Perhaps he 
might begin by affirming with me that— men are the 
same, and this will naturally lead him to another 
conclusion, that if men are the same, they can have 
but one common principle of action. The attain- 
ment of apparent good ; those two simple truisms 
contain the whole of my philosophy, aiad as they have 
not been worn out in the performance of one under- 
taking, I trust they will not fail me L- Gie execution 
of another, 



LA CON; 

OS 

MANY THINGS IN FEW WORDS. 



It is almost as difficult to make a man unlearn 
his errors, as his knowledge. Mai-information is 
more hopeless than non-information ; for error is 
always more busy than ignorance. Ignorance is 
a blank sheet, on which we may write ; but error 
is a scribbled one, from which we must first erase. 
Ignorance is contented to stand still with her back 
to the truth ; but error is more presumptuous, and 
proceeds in the same direction. Ignorance has no 
light, but error follows a false one. The conse- 
quence is, that error, when she retraces her foot- 
steps, has farther to go, before she can arrive at 
the truth, than ignorance. 

With respect to the authority of great names it 
should be remembered, that he alone deserves to 
have any weight or influence with posterity, who 
has shown himself superior to the particular and 
predominant error of his own times ; — who, like 
the peak of Teneriffe, has hailed the intellectual 
sun, before its beams have reached the horizon of 
common minds ; who, standing like Socrates, on 
the apex of wisdom, has removed from his eyes 
all film of earthly dross, and has foreseen a purer 
law, a nobler system, a brighter order of things ; 
2* 



18 LACON, 

in short a promised land ! which, like Moses on 
the top of Pisgah, he is permitted to survey and 
anticipate for others, without being himself allowed 
either to enter, or to enjoy. 

To cite the examples of history, in order to ani- 
mate us to virtue, or to arm us with fortitude, is to 
call up the illustrious dead, to inspire and to im- 
prove the living. But the usage of those civilians, 
who cite vicious authorities, for worse purposes, 
and enforce the most absurd practice, by the oldest 
precedent, is to bequeath to us as an heirloom, the 
errors of our forefathers ; to confer a kind of im- 
mortality on folly, making the dead more powerful 
than time, and more sagacious than experience, by 
subjecting those that are upon the earth, to the 
perpetual mal-govemment of those that are be- 
neath it, 



A writer more splendid than solid, seems to 
..hink that vice may lose half its guilt, by losing all 
its grossness. An idea suggested, perhaps, by the 
parting anathema, fulminated by Gibbon, against 
the fellows of Magdalen: 'Men,' he said, 'in 
whom were united all the malevolence of monks, 
without their erudition ; and all the sensuality of 
libertines, without their refinement.' But it would 
be as well perhaps for the interests of humanity, 
if vice of every kind were more odious, and less 
attractive ; if she were always exhibited to us, 
like the drunken Helot to the youths of Sparta, in 
her true and disgusting shape. It is fitting, that 
what is foul within, should be foul also without. 
To give the semblance of purity to the substance of 
corruption, is to proffer the poison of Circe in a 



L A C 3 . 19 

crystal goblet, and to steal the bridal vestments of 

the virgin, to add more allurements to the seduc- 
tive smiles of the harlot. 



If those alone who ' soiccd to the wind, did reap 
the whirlwind,- it would be well. But the rnischiel 
is, that the blindness of bigotry, the madness of 
ambition, and the miscalculation of diplomacy seek 
their victims principally amongst the innocent and 
unoffending. The cottage is sure to suffer for 
every error of the court, th«* cabinet, or the camp. 
When error sits in the seat of power and authority, 
and is generated in high places, it may be com- 
pared to that torrent, which originates indeed in the 
mountain, but commits its devastation in the vale. 



Great minds had rather deserve contemporaneous 
applause, without obtaining it, than obtain,, without 
deserving it ; if it follow them, it is well, but they 
will not deviate to follow it. With inferior minds 
the reverse is observable ; so that they can com- 
mand the flattery of knaves while living, they care 
not for the execrations of honest men, when dead. 
Milton neither aspired to present fame, nor even 
expected it ; but (to use his own words,) his high 
ambition was, 'to leave something to after ages, 
so written, that they should not willingly let it die.' 
And Cato finally observed, he would much rather 
that posterity should inquire, v;hy no statues were 
erected to him, than why they v:ere. 

As in agriculture, he that can produce the great- 
est crop is not the best farmer, but he that can 
effect it with the least expense ; so in society, he 
is not the best member, who can bring about the 



20 LACON. 

most good, but he that can accomplish it with the 
least admixture of concomitant ill. — For let no 
man presume to think that he can devise any plan 
of extensive good, unalloyed and unadulterated 
with evil. This is the prerogative of the Godhead 
alone. 

The inequalities of life are real things, they can 
fr liber be explained away, nor done away; * Ex- 
pallets furca, tamen usque recurrent?* A leveller, 
therefore, has long been set down as a ridiculous 
and chimerical being, who, if he could finish his 
work to-day, would have to begin it again to-mor- 
row. The things that constitute these real ine- 
qualities are four, strength, talent, riches, and rank. 
The two former, would constitute inequalities in 
the rudest state of nature ; the two latter, more 
properly belong to a state of society more or less 
civilized and refined. — Perhaps the whole four are 
all ultimately resolvable in power. But in the just 
appreciation of this power men are too apt to be 
deceived. Nothing, for instance, is more common 
than to see rank or riches preferred to talent, and 
yet nothing is more absurd. That talent is of a 
much higher order of power than riches, might be 
proved in various ways ; being so much more in- 
deprivable and indestructible, so much more above 
all accident of change, and all confusion of chance. 
But the peculiar superiority of talent over riches, 
may be best discovered from hence — That the 
influence of talent will always be the greatest in 
that government which is the most pure ; while 
the influence of riches will always be the greatest in 

* You may dig them out, but they will come again. — Pub. 



L A C ON. 21 

that government which is most corrupt. So that 
from the preponderance of talent, we may always 
infer the soundness and vigour of the common- 
wealth ; but from the preponderance of riches, its 
dotage and degeneration. That talent confers an 
inequality of a higher order than rank, would 
appear from various views of the subject, and 
most particularly from this — many a man may 
justly thank his talent for his rank, but no man has 
ever yet been able to return the compliment, by 
thanking his rank for his talent. When Leonardo 
da Vinci died, his sovereign exclaimed, ' I can 
make a thousand lords, but not one Leonardo.' 
Cicero observed to a degenerate patrician, i I am 
the first of my family, but you are the last of yours? 
And since his time, those who value themselves 
merely on their ancestry, have been compared to 
potatoes, all that is good of them is under the ground ; 
perhaps it is but fair that nobility should have de- 
scended to them, since they never could have raised 
themselves to it. 



An upright minister asks, what re commends a 
man ; a corrupt minister, who. 



The first consideration with a knave, is how to 
help himself, and the second, how to do it, with an 
appearance of helping you. Dionysius* the tyrant, 

* There were two tyrants of this name, the last of whom 
ruled with -such tyranny, that his people grew weary of his 
government. He, hearing that an old woman prayed for 
his life, asked her why she did so 1 She answered, ' I have 
seen the death of several tyrants, and the successor was 
always worse than the former, then earnest thou, worse 
than all the rest ; and if thou vert gone, I fear what would 
become of u-~, if we should have a worse still.' 



22 LA CON. 

stripped the statue of Jupiter Olympus of a robe of 
massy gold, and substituted a cloak of wool, say- 
ing, gold is too cold in winter, and too heavy in 
summer — It behooves us to take care of Jupiter, 

If hypocrites go to hell, by the road to heaven, 
we may carry on the metaphor, and add, that as 
all the virtues demand their respective tolls, the 
hypocrite has a by-way to avoid them, and to get 
into the main road again. And all would be well, 
if he could escape the last turnpike in the journey 
of life, where all must pay, where there is no by- 
path, and where the toll is death. 

In great matters of public moment, where both 
parties are at a stand, and both are punctilious, 
slight condescensions cost little, but are worth 
much. He that yields them is wise, inasmuch as 
he purchases guineas with farthings. A few drops 
of oil will set the political machine at work, when 
a tun of vinegar would only corrode the wheels, 
and canker the movements. 

Were we as eloquent as angels, we should please 
some men, some women, and some children, much 
more by listening, than by talking. 

When Mahomet forbids his followers the use of 
wine, when the grand Sultan discourages learning, 
and when the Pope denies the Scriptures to the 
laity, what are we to infer from hence 1 not the 
danger of the things forbidden, but the fears of 
those that forbid. Mahomet knew that his wao a 
faith strictly military, and to be propagated I if *& 



LA CON. 23 

sword ; he also knew that nothing is so destruc- 
tive of discipline as wine ; Mahomet therefore in- 
terdicted wine. The grand Sultan knows that 
despotism is founded on the blindness and weak- 
ness of the governed ; but that learning is light 
and power ; and that the powerful and enlightened 
make very troublesome slaves ; therefore the Sul- 
tan discourages learning. Leo the Xth knew that 
the pontifical hierarchy did support, and was recip- 
rocally supported by a superstition that was false : 
but he also knew that the Scriptures are true, and 
that truth and falsehood assimilate not ; therefore, 
Leo withheld the Scriptures from the laity. 



A wise minister would rather preserve peace, 
than gain a victory ; because he knows, that even 
the most successful war, leaves nations generally 
more poor, always more profligate, than it fomrl 
them. There are real evils that cannot be brought 
into a list of indemnities, and the demoralizing in- 
fluence of war is not amongst the least of them. 
The triumphs of truth are the most glorious, chiefly 
because they are the most bloodless of all victories, 
deriving their highest lustre from the number of 
the saved, not of the slain. 



The great examples of Bacon, cf Milton, of 
Newton, of Locke, and of others, happen to be 
directly against the popular inference, that a certain 
wildness of eccentricity and thoughtlessness of 
conduct are the necessary accompaniments of ta- 
lent, and the sure indications of genius. Because 
some have united these extravagances, with great 
demonstrations of talent, as a Rousseau, a Chat- 
tertori, a Savage, a Burns, or a Byron ; others, 



24 LA CON. 

finding it less difficult to be eccentric, than le be 
brilliant, have therefore adopted the one, in hopes 
that the world would give them credit for the other. 
But the greatest genius is never so great, as when 
it is chastised and subdued by the highest reason ; 
it is from such a combination, like that of Buce- 
phalus, reined in by Alexander, that the most 
powerful efforts have been produced. And be it 
remembered, that minds of the very highest order, 
who have given an unrestrained course to their 
caprice or to tWir passions, would have been so 
much hu : !■•■ subduing them; and so far from 
presuming thai the world would give them credit 
for talent, on the score of their aberrations and their 
extravagances, all that they dared hope or expect has 
been, that the world would pardon and overlook those 
extravagances, on account of the various and mani- 
fold proofs they were constantly exhibiting of supe- 
rior acquirement and inspiration. We might also 
add, that the good effects of talent are universal, the 
evil of its blemishes confined. The light and heat 
of the sun benefit all, and are by all, enjoyed ; the 
spots on its surface are discoverable only to the 
few. But the lower order of aspirers to fame and 
talent, have pursued a very different course ; in- 
stead of exhibiting talent in the hope that the world 
would forgive their eccentricities, they have exhi- 
bited only their eccentricities, in the hope that the 
world would give them credit for talent. 



The enthusiast has been compared to a man 
walking in a fog ; every thing immediately around 
him, or in contact with him, appears sufficiently 
clear and luminous ; but beyond the little circle, of 
which he himself is the centre, all is mist, error, 



LAC ON. 25 

and confusion. But he himself is nevertheless as 
much in the fog as his neighbours, all of whom have 
also cantoned out their little Goshens of perspica- 
city. Total freedom from error is what none of us 
will allow to our neighbours, however we may be in- 
clined to flirt a little with such spotless perfection 
ourselves. Sir Richard Steele has observed, that 
there is this difference between the church of Rome 
and the church of England : the one professes to 
be infallible— the other to be never in the wrong. 
Such high pretensions are extremely awkward 
wherever the points of difference happen to be more 
numerous than those of agreement. A safer mode 
of proceeding would be to propose with diffidence, 
to conjecture with freedom, to examine with can- 
dour, and to dissent with civility ; ' in rebus neces- 
sariis sit unitas ; in non necessariis liberalitas , in 
omnibus, charitas'* This ought to teach all the en- 
thusiasts moderation, many of whom begin to make 
converts from motives of chanty, but continue to do 
so from motives of pride : like some rivers which 
are sweet at their source, but bitter at their mouth. 
The fact is, that charity is contented with exhorta- 
tion and example, but pride is not to be so easily 
satisfied. An enthusiast, therefore, ought above all 
things to guard against this error, arising from a 
morbid association of ideas, directed to view and 
examine ail things through one medium alone. 
The best intentioned may be exposed to this infirm- 
ity, and there is one infallible symptom of the dis- 
order, which is this : whenever we find ourselves 
more inclined to persecute than to persuade, we may 
then be certain that our zeal has more of pride in 

*Let there be harmony in things essential ; liberality in 
things not essential ; charity in all. — Pub. 
3 



26 LACON. 

it than of charity, that we are seeking victory rather 
than truth, and are beginning to feel more for our- 
selves, than for our master. To lose our charity, 
in defence of our religion, is to sacrifice the citadel, 
to maintain the outworks ; a very imprudent mode 
of defence. There is an old poet who has said,. 
' Nullum Numen abest si sit Prudentia, tecum ; r * but 
your thorough-paced enthusiast would make a tri- 
lling alteration in the letter, but a most important one 
in the spirit of the line, which he would read thus — 
4 Nullum Numen habes si sit Prudentia, tecum.'''] 



In all societies, it is advisable to associate if 
possible with the highest ; not that the highest are 
always the best, but, because if disgusted there, we 
can at any time descend ; but if we begin with the 
lowest, to ascend is impossible. In the grand the- 
atre of human life, a box ticket takes us through tho 
house. 



He that has never suffered extreme adversity, 
knows not the full extent of his own depravation ; 
and he that has never enjoyed the summit of pros- 
perity is equally ignorant how far the iniquity of 
others can go. For our adversity will excite temp- 
tations in ourselves, our prosperity in others. Sir 
Robert Walpole observed, it was fortunate that few 
men could be prime ministers, because it was for- 
tunate that few men could know the abandoned 
profligacy of the human mind. Therefore a beau- 
tiful woman, if poor, 3hould use a double circum- 
spection ; for her beauty will tempt others, her po- 
verty herself, 

*No Deity is absent, if prudence is with thee. -Pub. 

t Thou art deserted of Heaven > if prudence is with thee. -Fob. 



L A C O N . 27 

Power, like the diamond, dazzles the beholder, 
and also the wearer ; it dignifies meanness : it mag- 
nifies littleness ; to what is contemptible, it gives 
authority ; to what is low, exhaltation. To acquire 
it, appears not more difficult than to be dispossess- 
ed of it when acquired, since it enables the hold- 
er to shift his own errors on dependants, and to take 
their merits to himself. But the miracle of losing 
it vanishes, when we reflect that we are as liable to 
3 to rise, by the treachery of others ; and that 
to say * I am' is language that has been appropri- 
exclusively to God ! 



Virtue without talent, is a coat of mail, without a 
sv:ord ; it may indeed defend the wearer, but will 
not enable him to protect his friend. 



He that aspires to be the head of a party, will 
find it more difficult to please his friends than to 
perplex his foes. He must often act from false 
reasons which are weak, because he dares not 
the true reasons which are strong, It will 
be his lot to* be forced on some occasions to give 
his consideration to the wealthy, or the titled, al- 
though they may be in the wrong and withhold it 
the energetic, but necessitous, although they 
may be in the right. There are moments when he 
must appear to sympathize, not only with the fears 

3 brave, but also with the follies of the 
He must see some appearances that do not exist, 
and be blind to some that do. To be above others, 
he must condescend at times, to be beneath him 
self, as the loftiest trees have the lowest roots, 
but without the keenest circumspection, his very 
rise, will be his ruin. For a masked battery is 



28 LACON. 

more destructive than one that is visible, and he 
-will have more to dread from the secret envy of his 
adherents, than the open hate of his adversaries 
This envy will be ever near him, but he must not 
appear to suspect it ; it will narrowly watch him, 
but he must not appear to perceive it : even when 
he is anticipating all its effects, he must give no 
note of preparation ; and, in defending himself 
against it, he must conceal both his sword and his 
shield. Let him pursue success as his truest 
friend, and apply to confidence as his ablest coun- 
sellor. Subtract from a great man, all that he 
owes to opportunity, and all that he owes to 
chance ; all that he has gained by the wisdom of his 
friends, and by the folly of his enemies ; and our 
Brobdignag will often become a Lilliputian. I think 
it is Yoitaire who observes, that it was very fortunate 
for Cromwell, that he appeared upon the stage at 
the precise moment when the people were tired of 
kings ; and as unfortunate for his son Richard, that 
he had to make good his pretensions, at a moment 
when the people were equally tired of 'protectors. 



All poets pretend to write for immortality, but 
the whole tribe have no objection to present pay, 
and present praise. Lord Burleigh is not the only 
statesman, who has thought one hundred pounds 
too much for a song, though sung by Spencer ; al- 
though Oliver Goldsmith, is the only poet who ever 
considered himself to have been overpaid. The 
reward in this arena is not to the swift, nor the prize 
to the strong. Editors have gained more pounds, 
by publishing Milton's works, than he ever gained 
pence by writing them ; and Garrick has reaped a 
richer harvest in a single night, by acting in one play 



LAC ON. 29 

of Shakspeare's, than that poet himself obtained 
by the genius which inspired the whole of the 



Avarice begets more vices than Priam did chil- 
dren, and like Priam survives them all. It starves 
its keeper to surfeit those who wish him dead ; and 
makes him submit to more mortifications to lose 
heaven, than the martyr undergoes to gain it. 
Avarice is a passion full of paradox, a madness full 
of method ; for, although the miser is the most 
mercenary of all beings, yet he serves the worst 
master more faithfully than some Christians do the 
best, and will take nothing for it. He falls down 
and worships the god of this world, but will have 
neither its pomps, its vanities, nor its pleasures, for 
his trouble. He begins to accumulate treasure as 
a mean to happiness, and by a common but morbid 
association, he continues to accumulate it as an end. 
He lives poor, to die rich ; and is the mere jailer 
of his house, and the turnkey of his wealth. Em- 
poverished by his gold, he slaves harder to impri- 
son it in his chest, than his brother slave to libe- 
rate it from the mine. The avarice of the miser 
may be termed the grand sepulchre of all his other 
passions, as they successively decay. But unlike 
other tombs it is enlarged by repletion and strength- 
ened by age. The latter paradox, so peculiar to 
this passion, must be ascribed to that love of power 
inseparable from the human mind. There are 
three kinds of power — wealth, strength, and talent ; 
but as old age always weakens, often destroys the 
two latter, the aged are induced to cling with the 
greater avidity to the former. And the attach- 
ment of the aged to wealth, must be a growing and 
progressive attachment, since, such are not slow in 
3* 



30 LA CON. 

discovering, that those same ruthless years, which 
detract so s*ensibly from the strength of their 
bodies, and of their minds, serve only to augment 
and to consolidate the strength of their purse. 



Men will wrangle for religion ; write for it ; fight 
for it ; die for it ; any thing but — live for it. 



Honour is unstable, and seldom the same ; for she 
feeds upon opinion, and is as fickle as her food. 
She builds a lofty structure on the sandy founda- 
tion of the esteem of those, who are of all beings 
the most subject to change. But virtue is uniform 
and fixed, because she looks for approbation only 
from Him, who is the same yesterday — to-day — 
and for ever. Honour is the most capricious in 
her rewards. She feeds us with air, and often 
pulls down our house, to build our monument. She 
is contracted in her views, inasmuch as her hopes 
are rooted in earth, bounded by time, and termi- 
nated by death. But virtue is enlarged and infinite 
in her hopes, inasmuch as they extend beyond pre- 
sent things, even to eternal ; this is their proper 
sphere, and they will cease only in the reality of 
deathless enjoyment. In the storms, and in the 
tempests of life, honour is not to be depended on, 
because she herself partakes of the tumult ; she 
also is buffeted by the wave, and borne along by 
the whirlwind. But virtue is above the storm, and 
has an anchor sure and steadfast, because it is cast 
into heaven. The noble Brutus worshipped hon- 
our, and in his zeal mistook her for virtue. In 
the day of trial he found her a shadow and a 
name. But no man can purchase his virtue too 
dear ; for it is the only thing whose value must 



LACON. 21 

ever increase with tlie price it lias cost us. Our 
integrity is never worth so much as when we have 
parted with our all to keep it. The Pagans (says 
Bayle) from the obscurity wherein they lived, as 
to another life, reasoned very inconsequentially on 
the reality of virtue. It belongs to Christians alone 
to argue upon it aright; and if those good things 
to come, which the Scripture promises the faithful, 
were not joined to the desire of virtue, then an iri- 
nocency of life, might be placed in the number of 
those things on which Solomon pronounced his 
definitive decree, c Vanity of vanities, all is vanity p 

Modern reformers are not fully aware of the dif- 
ficulty they will find to make converts, when that 
period which we so fondly anticipate shall arrive • 
an era of universal illumination. They will then 
experience a similar rebuff, with those who now 
attempt to make proselytes among the Jews. 
These cunning descendants of Laban shrewdly 
reply ; Pray -would it not be better for your Chris 
tians, first of all to decide amongst yourselves what 
Christianity is, and when that important point is 
fully settled, then we think it will be time enough 
for you to begin your attempts of converting others ? 
And the reasoning and enlightened inquirer will 
also naturally enough demand of the reformist, 
what is reformation ? This he will find to be 
almost as various as the advocates for it. The 
thorough-paced and Unitarian reformer, who thinks 
one year a sufficient period for a parliament, in 
order to bring in another unity still more absurd 
and dangerous, the majesty of the people, one and 
indivisible, must be at irreconcilable issue with 
the Trinitarian reformer, who advocates triennial 



32 LA CON. 

parliaments, and who has n& respect for 

that old and orthodox association of king, 
and commons. In politics, as in 
happens, that we have less cli e who 

believe the half of our creed, than for thosi 
deny the whole of it ; since if Servetus had been 
a Mohammedan, he would not have been burnt by 
Calvin. There are two parties, therefore, that will 
%rm a rent in the Babel building of Reform, which, 
unlike that of the Temple, will not be confined to 
the vail, but will ill all probability reach the foun- 
dation. 



Times of general calamity and confusion, have 
ever been productive of the greatest minds.— The 
purest ore, is produced from the hottest furnace, 
and the brightest thunderbolt, is elicited from the 
darkest storm. 



Hypocrites act by virtue, like Numa by his 
shield. —They frame many counterfeits of her, with 
which they make an ostentatious parade, in all 
public assemblies, and processions ; but the origi- 
nal of what they counterfeit, and which may indeed 
be said to have fallen from heaven, they produce so 
seldom, that it is cankered by the rust of sloth, and 
useless from non-application. 



The wealthy and the noble, when they expend 
large sums in decorating their houses with the rare 
and costly efforts of genius, with busts from the 
chisel of a Canova, and with cartoons from the 
pencil of a Raphael, are to be commended, if they 
do not stand still here, but go on to bestow some 
pains and cost, that the master himself be not 



LACON, 33 

inferior to the mansion, and that the owner be not 
the only thing that is little, amidst every thing else 
that is great. The house may draw visiters, but it 
is the possessor alone that can detain them. We 
cross the Alps, and after a short interval, we are glad 
to return : — we go to see Italy, not the Italians. 



Public events of moment, when deeply and fully 
considered, are the fertile womb of political max- 
ims, which ought to contain the very soul of the 
moral history ; and then they are imperishable and 
indestructible, worthy of being resorted to as a tower 
of strength in the storm, and spreading their efful- 
gence over the tide of time, as a beacon in the night. 



Secrecy of design, when combined with rapidity 
of execution, like the column that guided Israel in 
the deserts, becomes the guardian pillar of light 
and fire to our friends, a cloud of overwhelming 
and impenetrable darkness to our enemies. 



' Felix, quern faciunt aliena pericula cauturn :'* 
whis is well translated by some one who observes 
that it is far better to borrow experience than to buy 
it. He that sympathizes in all the happiness of 
others, perhaps himself enjoys the safest happi- 
ness, and he that is warned by all the folly of 
others, has perhaps attained the soundest wisdom. 
But such is the purblind egotism, and the suicidal 
selfishness of mankind, that things so desirable are 
seldom pursued, things so accessible, seldom at- 
tained. That is indeed a twofold knowledge, which 
profits alike, by the folly of the foolish, and the 

* Happy, whom ether's dangers render prudent. — Pub. 



34 L A C N . 

wisdom of the wise ; it is both a shield i 
sword ; it borrows its security from the darkness, 
and its confidence from the light. 



' Defendit numerusj* is the maxim of the fool- 
ish ; ' Deperdit nuiinerus*;\ of the wise. ' The fact 
is, that an honest man will continue to be so, 
though surrounded on all sides by rogues. The 
whole world is turned upside down once in twenty- 
four hours ; yet no one thinks of standing upon his 
head, rather than on his heels. He that can be 
honest, only because every one else is honest, or 
good, only because all around him are good, might 
have continued an angel, if he had been born one, 
but being a man, he will only add to that number. 
numberless, who go to hell for the bad things they 
have done, and for the good things which they in- 
tended to do. 



The sun should not set upon our anger, neither 
should he rise upon our confidence. We should 
forgive freely, but forget rarely. I will not be re- 
venged, and this I owe to my enemy ; but I will 
remember, and this I owe to myself. 



The drafts which true genius draws upon poste- 
rity, although they may not always be honoured so 
soon as they are due, are sure to be paid with com- 
pound interest, in the end. Milton's expressions, 
on his right to this remuneration, constitute some 
of the finest efforts of his mind. He never alludes 
to these high pretensions, but he appears to be ani- 
mated by an eloquence, which is at once both the 

* There is safety in numbers. — Pue. 
t There is ruin in numbers. — Pue. 



lac or; . 35 

plea and the proof of their justice ; an eloquence, 
so^ much above all present and all psrishable things, 
that, like the beam of the sun, it warms, while it 
enlightens, and as it descends from heaven to 
earth, raises our thoughts from earth to heaven. 
When the great Kepler had at length discovered 
the harmonic laws that regulate the 
heavenly bodies, he exclaimed, 'Whether m; 
coveries will be read by posterity, or by my 
temporaries, is a matter that concerns them, more 
than me. I may well be contented to wait one cen- 
tury for a reader, when God himself, during so 
many thousand years, has waited for an ol i . 
like myself/ 



Ambition is to the mind, what the cap is to the 
falcon ; it blinds us first, and then compels us to 
tower, by reason of our blindness. But alas, when 
we are at the summit of a vain ambition, we are 
also at the depth of real misery. We are placed 
where time cannot improve, but must impair us ; 
where chance and change cannot befriend, but may 
betray us ; in short, by attaining all we wish, and 
gaining ail we want, we have only reached a pin- 
nacle, where wo have nothing to hope, but every 
thing to fear. 



W r e should justly ridicule a general, who just be- 
fore an action should suddenly disarm his men, 
and putting into the hands of all of them a bible, 
should order them to march against the enemy. 
Here, we plainly see the folly of calling in the Bible 
to support the sword : but is it not as great a folly 
to call in the sword to support the Bible ? Our Sa- 
viour divided force from reason, and let no -man 



36 LACO N . 

presume to join what God hath put asunder. 
When we combat error with any other weapon 
than argument, we err more than those whom we 
attack. 



We follow the world in approving others, but we 
go before it in approving ourselves. 

None are so fond of secrets, as those who do not 
mean to keep them ; such persons covet secrets, 
as a spendthrift covets money, for the purpose of 
circulation. 



That knowledge, which a man may acquire only 
by travelling is too dearly bought. The traveller 
indeed may be said to fetch the knowledge, as the 
merchant the wares, to be enjoyed and applied by 
those who stay at home. A man may sit by his 
own fireside, be conversant with many domestic 
arts and general sciences, and yet have very cor- 
rect ideas of the manners and customs of other 
nations. While on the contrary, he that has spent 
his whole life in travelling, who, like Scriblerus, has 
made his legs his compasses, rather than Ids judg- 
ment, may live and die a thorough novice in all the 
most important concerns of life ; like Anson, he 
may have been round the world, and over the world, 
without having been in the world ; and die an 
ignoramus, even after having performed the seven 
journeys between the holy hills ; swept the Kaaba 
with a silver besom ; drank of the holy waters of 
the Zemzem ; and traced the source of the Nile, 
and the end of the Niger. 

It is an observation of the late Lord Bishop of 



LACON. 37 

LandafT, that there are but two kinds of men who 
succeed as public characters, men of no principle, 
but of great talent, and men of no talent, but oi one 
principle, that of obedience to their superiors. In 
fact, there will never be a deficiency of this second 
class ; persons, who, like Doddington, have no 
higher ambition than that of sailing in the wake of 
a man of first rate abilities. * I told the duke of 
Newcastle,' says he, (in the account he gives of 
himself, in his Diary) ' that it must end one way or 
the other, and must not remain as it was ; for I 
was determined to make some sort of figure in 
life. I earnestly wished it might be under his pro- 
tection, but if that could not be, I must make some 
figure ; what it would be I could not determine yet. 
I must look around me a little, and consult my 
friends, but some figure I was resolved to make.' 
Indeed, it is lamentable to think, what a gulf of 
impracticability must ever separate men of prin- 
ciple, whom offices want, from men of no principle, 
who want offices. It is easy to see that a Hamp- 
den, or a Marvel, could not be connected for one 
hour, with a Walpole,* or a Mazarin. Those who 
would conscientiously employ power for the good 
of others, deserve it, but do not desire it ; and 
those who would employ it for the good of them- 
selves, desire it, but do not deserve it. 



It is more easy to forgive the weak, who have 
injured us, than the powerful whom we have injured. 

* It is but justice to say of this great minister, who went 
such lengths in corrupting others, that there were some in- 
stances, in which he himself was incorruptible. He re- 
fused the sum of sixty thousand pounds which was offered 
him to save the life of the earl of Derwentwater. 
4 



38 LACON. 

That conduct will be continued by our fears, which 
commenced in our resentment. He that is gone so 
far as to cut the claws of the lion, will not feel him- 
self quite secure, until he has also drawn his teeth. 
The greater the power of him that is injured, the 
more inexpiable and persevering must be the efforts 
of those who have begun to injure him. There* 
fore a monarch who submits to a single insult, is 
half dethroned. When the conspirators were de- 
liberating on the murder of Paul Petrowitz, emperor 
of Russia, a voice was heard in the antechamber, 
saying, * You have broken the egg, you had better 
make the omelet^ 

That cowardice is incorrigible which the love of 
power cannot overcome. In the heat and phrensy 
of the French revolution, the contentions for place 
and power never sustained the smallest diminution ; 
appointments and offices were never pursued with 
more eagerness and intrigue, than w r hen the heads 
of those who gained them, had they been held on 
merely by pieces of sticking plaster, could not have 
sat more loosely on their shoulders. Demagogues 
sprung up like mushrooms, and the crop seemed to 
be fecundated by blood ; although it repeatedly 
happened that the guillotine had finished the fa- 
vourite, before the plaster had finished the model, 
and that the original was dead, before the bust was 
dry. 

A man may arrive at such power, and be so suc- 
cessful in tho application of it, as to be enabled to 
crush and to overwhelm all his enemies. But a 
safety, built upon successful vengeance, and estab- 
lished not upon our love, but upon our fear, often 



LACON. 39 

contains within itself the seeds of its own destruc- 
tion. It is at best a joyless and a precarious 
safety, as shortlived as that of some conquerors, 
who have died from a pestilence excited by the 
dead bodies of the vanquished. 



Many men fail in life, from the want, as they are 
too ready to suppose, of those great occasions 
wherein they might have shown their trustworthi- 
ness, and their integrity. But all such persons 
should remember, that in order to try whether a 
vessel be leaky, we first prove it with water, before 
we trust it with wine. The more minute, trivial, 
and we may say vernacular opportunities of being 
just and upright, are constantly occurring to every 
one : and it is an unimpeachable character in these 
lesser things, that almost . invariably prepares and 
produces those very opportunities of greater ad- 
vancement, and of higher confidence, which turn 
out so rich a harvest, but which those alone are 
permitted to reap, who have previously soivn. 

Of all the passions, jealousy is that which exacts 
the hardest service, and pays the bitterest wages. 
Its service is — to watch the success of our enemy ; 
its wages — to be sure of it. 



Pedantry prides herself on being wrong by rules ; 
while common sense is contented to be right, with- 
out them. The former would rather stumble in 
following the dead, than walk upright by the profane 
assistance of the living. She worships the moul- 
dering mummies of antiquity, and her will is, that 
they should not be buried, but embalmed. She 
would have Truth herself bow to the authority of 



40 LACON. 

great names ; while common sense would have 
great names bow to ? the authority of truth. Folly 
disgusts us less by her ignorance, than pedantry by 
her learning ; since she mistakes the nonage of 
things for their virility ; and her creed is, that 
darkness is increased by the accession of light ; 
that the world grows younger by age; and that 
knowledge and experience are diminished, by a 
constant and uninterrupted accumulation 



There is but one pursuit in life, which it is in 
the power of all to follow, and of all to attain. It 
is subject to no disappointments, since he that per- 
severes, makes every difficulty an advancement, 
and every contest a victory ; and this is the pursuit 
of virtue. Sincerely to aspire after virtue, is to 
gain her ; and zealously to labour after her wages, 
is to receive them. Those that seek her early, 
will find her before it is late ; her reward also is 
with her, and she will come quickly. For the 
breast of a good man, is a little heaven commencing 
on earth ; where the Deity sits enthroned with 
unrivalled influence, every safety from danger, 
resource from sterility, and subjugated passion, 
' like the wind and storm, fulfilling his word.' 

Even human knowledge is permitted to approx- 
imate in some degree, and on certain occasions, to 
that of the Deity, its pure and primary source ; and 
this assimilation is never more conspicuous, than 
when it converts evil into the means of producing 
its opposite good. What for instance appears at 
first sight to be so insurmountable a barrier to the 
intercourse of nations as the ocean ; but science 
has converted it into the best and most expeditious 



LACON. 41 

mean, by which they may supply their mutual 
wants, and carry on their most intimate communi- 
cations. What so violent as steam ? and so de- 
structive as fire ? What so uncertain as the wind 1 
and so uncontrollable as the wave 1 Yet art has 
rendered these unmanageable things instrumental 
and subsidiary to the necessities, the comforts, and 
even the elegancies of life. What so hard, so 
cold, and so insensible as marble ? Yet the sculp- 
tor can warm it into life, and bid it breathe an 
eternity of love. What so variable as colour ? so 
swift as light ? or so empty as shade ? Yet the 
pencil of a Raphael can give these fleeting things 
both a body and a soul ; can confer upon them an 
imperishable vigour, a beauty that increases with 
age, and which must continue to captivate genera- 
tions. In short, wisdom can draw expedient from 
obstacle, invention from difficulty, remedy from 
poison. In her hands, all things become beautiful 
by adaptment ; subservient by their use ; and salu- 
tary by their application. 



As there are none so weak, that we may venture 
to injure them with impunity, so there are none so 
low, that they may not at some time be able to 
repay an obligation. Therefore, what benevolence 
would dictate, prudence would confirm. For he 
that is cautious of insulting the weakest, and not 
above obliging the lowest, will have attained such 
habits of forbearance and of conspiracy, as will 
secure him the good-will of all that are beneath 
him, and teach him how to avoid the enmity of all 
that are above him. For he that would not bruise 
even a worm, will be still more cautious how he 
treads upon a serpent. 

4* 



42 LACON. 

The only things in which we can be said to have 
any property, are our actions. Our thoughts may 
be bad, yet produce no poison, they may be good, 
yet produce no fruit. Our riches may be taken 
from us by misfortune, our reputation by malice, 
our spirits by calamity, our health by disease, our 
friends by death. But our actions must follow us 
beyond the grave ; with respect to them alone, we 
cannot say that we shall carry nothing with us 
when we die, neither that we shall go naked out 
of the world, Our actions must clothe us with an 
immortality, loathsome or glorious ; these are the 
only title-deeds of which we cannot be disinherited ; 
they will have their full weight in the balance of 
eternity, when every thing else is as nothing ; and 
their value will be confirmed and established by 
those two sure and sateless destroyers of all other 
things, — Time — and Death. 



He that abuses his own profession, will not pa- 
tiently bear with any one else that does so. And 
this is one of our most subtile operations of self- 
love. For when we abuse our own profession, we 
tacitly except ourselves ; but when another abuses 
it, we are far from being certain that this is the 
case. 



Tnere are minds so habituated to intrigue and 
mystery in themselves, and so prone to expect it 
from others, that they will never except of a plain 
reason for a plain fact, if it be possible to devise 
causes for it that are obscure, far fetched, and 
usually not worth the carriage. Like the miser of 
Berkshire, who would ruin a good horse to escape 
a turnpike, so these gentlemen r : :de their high-bred 



LACOK. 43 

theories to death, in order to come at truth, through 
by-paths, lanes, and alleys ; while she herself is 
jogging quietly along upon the high and beaten 
road of common sense. The consequence is, that 
those who take this mode of arriving at truth, are 
sometimes before her, and sometimes behind her, 
but very seldom with her. Thus the great states- 
man who relates the conspiracy against Doria, 
pauses to deliberate upon, and minutely to scruti- 
nize into divers and sundry errors committed, and 
opportunities neglected, whereby he would as ish (o 
account for the total failure of that spirited outer- 
prise. Rut the plain fact was. that the sch^m^ 
had been so well planned and digested, that it w ■ > 
victorious in every point of its operation, both on 
the sea and on the shore, in the harbour o( Genoa, 
no less than in the city, until that most unlucky 
accident befell the Count de Fiesque, who was the 
very life and soul of the conspiracy. In stepping 
horn one galley to another, the plank on which he 
stood, upset, and he fell into the sea. His armour 
happened to be very heavy — the night to be very 
dark — the water to be very deep — and the bottom 
to be very muddy. And it is another plain fact, 
that water in all such cases, happens to make no 
distinction whatever, between a conqueror and a cat. 



In the tortuous and crooked policy of public 
affairs, as well as in the less extensive, but perhaps 
more intricate labyrinth of private concerns, there 
are two evils, which must continue to be as reme- 
diless as they are unfortunate ; they have no cure, 
and their only palliatives are diffidence and time. 
They are these — the most candid and enlightened 
must give their assent to a probable falsehood, 



44 L A C O N . 

rather than to an improbable truth ; and their es- 
teem to those who have a reputation^ in preference 
to those who only deserve it. 



He that acts towards men, as if God saw him, 
and prays to God, as if men heard him, although 
he may not obtain all that he asks, or succeed in 
all that he undertakes, will most probably deserve 
to do so. For with respect to his actions to men, 
however much he may fail with regard to others, 
yet if 'pure and good, with regard to himself and his 
highest interests, they cannot fail; and with re- 
spect to his prayers to God, although they cannot 
make the Deity more willing to give, yet they will, 
and must, make the supplicant more worthy to 
receive. 



We did not make the world, but w T e may mend 
it, and must live in it. We shall find that it abounds 
with fools, who are too dull to be employed, and 
knaves who are too sharp. The compound cha- 
racter is most common, and is that with which we 
shall have the most to do. As he that knows how 
to put proper words in proper places, evinces the 
truest knowledge of books, so he that knows how 
to put fit persons in fit stations, evinces the truest 
knowledge of men. It was observed of Elizabeth, 
that she was weak herself, but chose wise counsel- 
lors ; to which it was replied, that to choose wise 
counsellors, was, in a prince, the highest wisdom. 



If all seconds, were as averse to duels as their 
principals, very little blood would be shed in that 
way. 



LACON. 45 

If we cannot exhibit a better life than an atheist, 
we must be very bad calculators, and if we cannot 
exhibit a better doctrine, we must be still worse 
reasoners. Shall we then burn a man because he 
chooses to say in his heart, there is no God 1 To 
say it in his head, is incompatible with a sound 
state of the cerebellum. But if ail who wished 
there were no God, believed it too, we should hare 
many atheists. He that has lived without a God, 
would be very happy to die without one ; and he 
that by his conduct has taken the word not out of 
the commandments, would most willingly insert it 
into the creed. — Thou shall kill, and thou shah 
coimnit adultery, would be very conveniently sup- 
ported by, ' I do not believe in God.' But are we 
to burn a man for so absurd a doctrine ? Yes, says 
the zealot, for fear of his making proselytes. That 
he will attempt to make proselytes I admit, even 
to a system so fatherless, so forlorn, and so gloomy ; 
and he will attempt it, on the same principle which 
causes little children to cry at night for a bedfel- 
low, he is afraid of being left alone in the dark ! 
But to grant that he will, be successful in his 
attempts to convert others, would be to grant that 
he has some reason on his side ; and w^e have 
yet to learn that reason can be consumed by fire, 
or overwhelmed by force. We will burn him then 
for the sake of example. But his example, like 
his doctrine, is so absurd, that let him alone, and 
none will follow it. But by burning him, you your- 
selves have set a most horrid example, w r hich the 
innumerable champions of bigotry and of fanati- 
cism have followed, and will follow, whenever and 
wherever they have power to do so. By burning 
an atheist, you hare lent importance to that which 



46 LAC ON. 

was absurd, interest to that which was forbidding, 
light to that which was the essence of darkness. 
For atheism is a system which can communicate 
neither warmth nor illumination, except from those 
fagots which your mistaken zeal has lighted up for 
its destruction. 

There are some who affect a want of affectation, 
and flatter themselves that they are above flattery ; 
they are proud of being thought extremely humble, 
and would go round the world to punish those who 
thought them capable of revenge ; they are so 
satisfied with the suavity of their own temper, that 
they would quarrel with their dearest benefactor, 
only for doubting it. — And yet so very blind are all 
their acquaintance to their numerous qualifications 
and merits, that the possessors of them invariably 
discover, when it is too late, they have lived in the 
world without a single friend r and are about to 
leave it without a single mourner. 



They that are in power, should be extremely 
cautious to commit the execution of their plans, 
not only to those who are able, but to those who 
are vjilling ; as servants and instruments it is their 
duty to do their best, but their employers are never 
so sure of them, as when their duty is also their 
pleasure. To commit the execution of a purpose 
to one who disapproves of the plan of it, is to em- 
ploy but one third of the man ; his heart and his 
head are against you,, you have commanded only 
his hands. 



It is far more safe to lower any pretensions that 
a woman may aspire to, on the score of her virtue 



LAC ON. 47 

than those dearer ones which she may foster, on 
the side of her vanity. Tell her that she is not in 
the exact road to gain the approbation of the 
angels, and she may not only hear you with pa- 
tience, but may even follow your advice ; but 
should you venture to hint to her, that she is equally 
unsuccessful in all her methods to gain the appro- 
bation of men, she will pursue not the advice, but 
the adviser, certainly with scorn, probably with 
vengeance. 



There is a certain constitution of mind, which 
of all others, is the most likely to make our for- 
tune, if combined with talent, or to mar them, 
without it ; — for the errors of such minds are few, 
but fatal. I allude to those characters, who have 
a kind of mathematical decision about them, which 
dictates that a straight line is the shortest distance 
between any two points, and that small bodies icith 
velocity, have a greater momentum than large mass- 
es without it. Thus they would rather use a cannon- 
ball, than a batteringram. — With such minds, to 
resolve and to act, is instantaneous ; they seem to 
precede the march of time ; to foresee events, in 
the chrysalis of their causes ; and to seize that 
moment for execution, which others use in delibe- 
ration. Cromwell* had much of this decision in 
the camp, but in the church, hypocrisy asserted 
her dominion, and sometimes neutralized his moral 

* Cromwell is thus described by his confidential physi- 
cian, George Bate : { A perfect master of all the arts of 
simulation, and of dissimulation; who, turning up the 
whites of his eyes, and seeking the Lord with pious ges- 
tures, will weep and pray, and cant most devoutly, till an 
opportunity offers of dealing his dupe a knock-down blow 
under the short ribs.' 



48 LAC O N . 

courage, never his physical ; for he always fought 
with more sincerity than he prayed. Cardinal de 
Retz carried this energy and promptitude into 
every department of his career ; the church, the 
camp, the council, and the court ; but, like Charles 
the Xllth, he had always more sail than ballast, 
and after the most hairbreadth escapes, was ship- 
wrecked at last. Napoleon had more of this 
promptitude of decision, than any other character, 
ancient or modern. Even his ablest generals were 
often overwhelmed with astonishment at the result 
of his simultaneities. Kleber designated him, as a 
chief who had two faults, that of advancing, without 
i considering how he should retreat ; — and of seizing, 
without considering how he should retain. Jt was 
absolutely necessary for such a man to ' wear his 
heart in his head/ for he invariably sacrificed blood 
to time, and means to the end. If the wrong path 
happened to be the shortest, that made it the right ; 
and he anticipated an acquittal by securing a con- 
quest. He invaded France with sixty men, and for 
a time succeeded ; but this desperate measure 
would not have been necessary, if the same promp- 
titude of action which caused this latter attempt to 
succeed, had not most miserably failed on a former 
one. He had said, ' Let war feed war :' it did so, 
and Russia spread her table-cloth of snow, to 
receive the fragments of the feast. But all this 
energy, and all this talent, were clouded by a total 
want of principle : he knew that he had none him- 
self, and here he was right; but he concluded that 
all others had none, and here he was often wrong. 
On a more confined stage, and in a smaller sphere, 
few have combined more talent with more decision, 
*han Lord Thurlow. Nature seems to have given 



LACON, 49 

him a head of crystal, and nerves of brass. I shall 
quote his reply to a deputation from the dissenters, 
as highly characteristic of the man. — They had 
waited on him by appointment, to request that he 
would give them his vote for the repeal of the test 
act. They were shown into the library, where a 
plentiful collation had been prepared. They thought 
themselves sure of success, but they reckoned 
without their host, who at length made his appear- 
ance. He listened to a long harangue with much 
patience : — when it was finished, he rose up, and 
addressed them : ' Gentlemen, you have called on 
me to request my vote for the repeal of the test 
act. — Gentlemen, I shall not vote for the repeal of 
the test act. I care not whether your religion has 
the ascendency, or mine, or any, or none ; but this 
I know, that when you were uppermost, you kept 
us down, and now that we are uppermost, with 
God's help we will keep you down.' 

In pulpit eloquence, the grand difficulty lies here ; 
to give the subject all the dignity it so fully de- 
serves, without attaching any importance to our- 
selves. The Christian messenger cannot think too 
highly of his prince, or too humbly of himself. 
This is that secret art which captivates and im- 
proves an audience, and which all who see, will 
fancy they could imitate, while most who try will fail. 

* Speret idem, sudet multum, frustraque laboret, 

4 Ausus idem.'* 



The most disinterested of all gifts, are those 
which kings bestow on undeserving favourites ; — 

* He that undertakes this business will toil in vain,—FW' 
5 



50 Lx\CON ( 

first, because they are purely at the expense of the 
donor's character ; and secondly, because they are 
sure to be repaid with ingratitude. In fact, honours 
and titles so conferred, or rather so misplaced, dis- 
honour the giver, without exalting the receiver ; 
they are a splendid sign, to a wretched inn ; an 
illuminated frontispiece, to a contemptible missal ; 
a lofty arch overshadowing a gutter. Court minions 
lifted up from obscurity by their vices, and splen- 
did, only because they reflect the xays of royal 
munificence, may be compared to those fogs, which 
the sun raises up from the swamp, merely to ob- 
scure the beams, which were the cause of their 
elevation. 



Some men who know that they are great, are so 
very haughty withal and insufferable, that their 
acquaintance discover their greatness, only by tlio 
tax of humility, which they are obliged to pay, as 
the price of their friendship. Such characters are 
as tiresome and disgusting in the journey of life, as 
rugged roads are to the weary traveller, which lie 
discovers to be turnpikes, only by the toll 

A certain degree of labour and exertion seems 
to have been allotted us by Providence, as the con- 
dition of humanity. ' In the sweat of thy brow shalt 
thou eat thy bread ;' this is a curse which has proved 
a blessing in disguise. And those favoured few, 
who, by their rank, or their riches, are exempted 
from all exertion, have no reason to be thankful for 
the privilege. It was the observation of this neces- 
sity, that led the ancients to say, that the gods sold 
us every thing, but gave us nothing. Water, how- 
ever, which is one of the great necessaries of life, 



L A C O N . 51 

may, in genera], be gratuitously procured ; but it 
has been well observed, that if bread, the other 
great necessary of human life, could be procured 
on terms equally cheap and easy, there would be 
much more reason to fear, that men would become 
brutes, for the want of something to do, rather than 
philosophers, from the possession of leisure. And 
the facts seem to bear out the theory. In all coun- 
tries, where nature does the most, man does the 
least ; and where she does but little, there we shall 
find the utmost acme of human exertion. — Thus, 
Spain produces the worst farmers, and Scotland 
the best gardeners ; the former are the spoilt chil- 
dren of indulgence, the latter, the hardy offspring 
of endeavour. The copper, coal, and iron, of 
England, inasmuch as they cost much labour to 
dig, and ensure a still further accumulation of it 
when dug, have turned out to be richer mines to 
us, than those of Potosi and Peru. The posses- 
sors of the latter have been empoverished by their 
treasures, while we have been constantly enriched 
by our exertions. Our merchants, without being 
aware of it, have been the sole possessors of the 
philosopher's stone, for they have anticipated most 
of the wealth of Mexico before it arrived in Eu- 
rope, by transmuting their iron and their coppe* 
into gold. 



The road to glory would cease to he arduous, if 
it were trite and trodden ; and great minds must 
always be ready not only to take opportunities, but 
to make them. Alexander dragged the Pythian 
priestess to the temple on a forbidden day. — She 
exclaimed, { My son, thou art invincible? which 
was oracle enough for him.— On a second occasion, 



m LACO N, 

he cut the Gordian knot which others had in vain 
attempted to untie. — Those who start for human 
glory, like the mettled hounds of Actason, must 
pursue the game not only where there is a path, but 
where there is none. They must be able to simu- 
late and dissimulate, to leap and to creep ; to con- 
quer the earth like Caesar, to fall down and kiss it 
like Brutus ; to throw their sword like Brennus into 
the trembling scale ; or like Nelson, to snatch the 
laurels from the doubtful hand of victory, while she 
is hesitating where to bestow them. — That policy 
that can strike only while the iron is hot, will be 
overcome by that perseverance, which, like Crom- 
well's can make the iron hot by striking ; and he 
that can only rule the storm, must yield to him who 
can both raise and rule it. 

Some frauds succeed from the apparent candour, 
the open confidence, and the full blaze of ingen- 
uousness that is thrown around them. The slight- 
est mystery would , excite suspicion, and ruin all. — 
Such stratagems *may be compared to the stars, 
they are discoverable by darkness and hidden only 
by light, 

Some one in casting up his accounts, put down 
a very large sum per annum for his idleness. — But 
there is another account more awful than that of 
ouii*> expenses, in which many will find that their 
idleness has mainly contributed to tbe balance 
against them. From its very inaction, idleness 
ultimately becomes the most active cause of evil : 
as a palsy is more to be dreaded than a fever. The 
Turks have a proverb, which says, that, The devil 
tempts all other men, but that idle men tempt the 



L A C O N. 53 

devil. Prince Eugene informed a confidential 
friend, that in the course of his life, he had been 
exposed to many Potiphars, to all of whom he had 
proved a Joseph, merely because he had so many 
other things to attend to 

There is no quality of the mind, or of the body, 
that so instantaneously and irresistibly captivates, 
as wit. An elegant writer has observed that wit 
may do very well for a mistress, but that he should 
prefer reason for a wife. He that deserts the lat- 
ter, and gives himself up entirely to the guidance 
of the former, will certainly fall into many pitfalls 
and quagmires, like him, who walks by flashes of 
lightning, rather than by the steady beams of the 
sun. The conquest, therefore, of wit over the 
mind, is not like that of the Romans over the body ; 
a conquest regulated by policy, and perpetuated by 
prudence ; a conquest that conciliated all that it 
subdued, and improved all that it conciliated. The 
triumphs of wit should rather be compared to the 
inroads of the Parthians, splendid^ but transient ; a 
victory succeeded by surprise, and indebted more 
to the sharpness of the arrow, than the strength of 
the arm, and to the rapidity of an evolution, rather 
than the solidity of a phalanx. Wit, however, is 
one of the few things which has been rewarded 
more often than it has been defined. A certain 
bishop said to his chaplain : What is wit ? Thle 
chaplain replied, The rectory of B . . . . is vacant, 
give it to me, and that will be wit. Prove it, said his 
Lordship, and you shall have it : It would be a good 
thing well applied, rejoined the chaplain. The din- 
ner daily prepared for the Royal chaplains at St 
lames', was reprieved for a time from suspension, 
5* 



54 •■ LACON. 

by an effort of wit. King Charles had appointed 
a day for dining with his chaplains ; and it was 
understood that this step was adopted as the least 
unpalatable mode of putting an end to the dinner. 
It was Dr. South's turn to say the grace : and 
whenever the king honoured his chaplains with his 
presence, the prescribed formula ran thus : * God 
save the king, and bless the dinner.' Our witty 
divine took the liberty of transposing the words, by 
saying, ' God bless the king, and save the dinner.' 
' And it shall be saved,' said the monarch. 



It is not so difficult to fill a comedy with good 
repartee, as might be at first imagined, if we con- 
sider how completely both parties are in the power 
of the author. The blaze of wit in the School for 
Scandal, astonishes us less, when we remember 
that the writer had it in his power to frame both 
the question, and the answer ; the reply, and the 
rejoinder ; the time and the place. He must be a 
poor proficient, who cannot keep up the game, 
when the ball, the wall, and the racket, are at his 
sole command. 



The clashing interests of society, and the double, 
yet equal and contrary demands arising out of them, 
where duty and justice are constantly opposed to 
gratitude and inclination, these things must make 
the profession of a statesman, an office neither easy 
nor enviable. It often happens that such men have 
only a choice of evils, and that, in adopting either, 
the discontent will be certain, the benefit precarious. 
It is seldom that statesmen have the option of choos- 
ing between a good and an eviL ; and still more sel- 
dom, that they can boast of that fortunate situation* 



LACON. 55 

where, like the great Duke of Marlborough, they 
are permitted to choose between two things that 
are good. His Grace was hesitating whether he 
should take a prescription recommended by the 
Dutchess : ' I will be hanged/ said he, ' if it does 
not cure you.' Dr. Garth who was present, in- 
stantly exclaimed, ' Take it then, your Grace, by 
all manner of means, it is sure io do good one way 
or the other V 



Hurry and Cunning are the two apprentices of 
Despatch and Skill ; but neither of thein ever learn 
their master's trade. 



Success seems to be that which forms the dis- 
tinction between confidence and conceit. Nelson, 
when young, w^as piqued at not being noticed m a 
certain paragraph of the newspapers, which detailed 
an action wherein he had assisted : * But never 
mind,' said he, ' I will one day have a gazette of 
my own.' 



The excesses of our youth are drafts upon our 
old age, payable with interest, about thirty years 
after date. 



None are so seldom found alone, and are so soon 
tired of their own company, as those coxcombs 
who are on the best terms with themselves. 



Some historians, like Tacitus, Burnet, and the 
Abbe Raynal, are never satisfied, without adding to 
their detail of events, the secret springs and causes 
that have produced them, But, both heroes and 



56 LAC ON. 

statesmen, amid the din of arms, and the hurry of 
business, are too often necessitated to invert the 
natural order of things ; to fight before they delib- 
erate, and decide before they consult. A states- 
man may regulate himself by events, but it is sel- 
dom that he can cause events to regulate them- 
selves by him. It often happens too, both in courts 
and in cabinets, that there are two things going on 
together, a main plot and an under plot ; and he 
that understands only one of them, will, in ail prob- 
ability, be the dupe of both. A mistress may rule 
a monarch, but some obscure favourite may rule 
the mistress. Doctor Busby was asked how he 
contrived to keep all his preferments, and the head 
mastership of Westminster School, through the suc- 
cessive, but turbulent reigns of Charles the First, 
Oliver Cromwell, Charles the Second, and James; 
he replied, ' The fathers govern the nation ; the 
mothers govern the fathers : the boys govern the 
mothers ; and I govern the boys J 



Fortune has been considered the guardian divin- 
ity of fools ; and, on this score, she has been 
accused of blindness ; but it should rather be ad- 
duced as a proof of her sagacity, when she helps 
those who certainly cannot help. themselves. 

Literary prizes, and academical honours, arc lau- 
dable objects of any young man's ambition ; they 
are the proofs of present merit, and the pledges of 
future utility. But, when hopes excited within the 
cloister, are not realized beyond it ; when academ- 
ical rewards, produce not. public advantage, the 
general voice will not squander away upon the bios* 
som, that praise and gratitude, which it reserves 



LACON 57 

only for the fruit. Let those, therefore, who have 
been successful in their academic career, be careful 
to maintain their speed, ' servetur ad imum]* other- 
wise these petty kings within the walls of their 
colleges, will find themselves dethroned monarchs 
when they mix with the world ; a world through 
which, like Theodore,! they will be doomed to wan- 
der out of humour with themselves, and useless to 
society ; exasperated at all who do not recognise 
their former royalty, and commiserate their present 
degradation. The Senior Wrangler, of a certain 
year, piping hot from the Senate House at Cam- 
bridge, went to the play at Drury-Lane. It so hap- 
pened, that a certain great personage entered at the 
same moment, on the other side of the house, but 
unobserved by the mathematician. The whole 
house testified their respect, by a general rising 
and clapping of hands. Our astonished academic 
instantly exclaimed, to the no small amusement of 
his London friends, * Well, well, this is more than 
I expected ; how is it possible that these good 
people should so soon have discovered that I am 
the Senior Wrangler? 



Men spend their lives in anticipations, in deter- 
mining to be vastly happy at some period or other, 
when they have time. But the present time has one 
advantage over every other — it is our own. Past 
opportunities are gone, future are not come. We 
may lay in a stock of pleasures, as w x e would lay 
in a stock of wine ; but if we defer tasting them 
too long, we shall find that both are soured by age. 



* Save it Hill the task— "Pub* 
t Iting of Corsica. 



58 LAC ON. 

Let our happiness, therefore, be a modest mansion, 
which we can inhabit while we have our health and 
vigour to enjoy it ; not a fabric, so vast and expen- 
sive that it has cost us the best part of our lives 
to build it, and which we can expect to occupy only 
when we have less occasion for a habitation than 
a tomb. It has been well observed, that we should 
treat futurity as an aged friend from whom we 
expect a rich legacy. Let us do nothing to forfeit 
his esteem, and treat him with respect, not with ser- 
vility. But let us not be too prodigal when we are 
young, nor too parsimonious when we are old, 
otherwise we shall fall into the common error of 
those, who, when they had the power to enjoy, had 
not the prudence to acquire ; and when they had 
the prudence to acquire, had no longer the power 
.to enjoy. 



There are some who write, talk, and think, so 
much about vice and virtue, that they have no time 
to practise, either the one or the other.* They die 
with less sin to answer for than some others, 
because they have been too busy in disputing about 
the origin of it, to commit it ; and with little or no 
religion of their own, from their constant though 
unavailing assiduities to settle that of other men 
Charles the Fifth, after his abdication, amused him- 
self in his retirement at St. Juste, by attempting to 
make a number of watches go exactly together. 
Being constantly foiled in this attempt, he exclaimed, 
' What a fool have I been, to neglect my own con- 

* The great Howard, on the contrary, was so fully en- 
gaged in works of active benevolence, that, unlike Baxter, 
whose knees were callous by prayer, he left himself but 
little time to pray. Thousands were praying for hm 



L A C O N. 59 

corns, and to waste ray whole life in a vain attempt 
to make all men think alike on matters of religion, 
when I cannot even make a few watches keep time 
together ! 

' His vellem potius nugis tola ista dedisset 
i Tempora scevitoz. 9 



Adroit observers will find, that some who affect 
to dislike flattery, may yet be flattered indirectly, 
by a well seasoned abuse and ridicule of their 
rivals. Diogenes professed to be no flatterer ; but 
his cynic raillery was, in other words, flattery ; it 
fed the ruling passion of the Athenian mob, who 
were more pleased to hear their superiors abused, 
than themselves commended. 



A cool blooded and crafty politician, when he 
would be thoroughly revenged on his enemy, makes 
the injuries which have been inflicted, not on himself, 
but on others, the pretext of his attack. He thus 
engages the world as a partisan in his quarrel, and 
dignifies his private hate, by giving it the air of 
disinterested resentment. When Augustus wished 
to put in force the Lex Ice see majestatis, for sup- 
pressing libels and lampoons, he took care to do it, 
says Aurelius, not in his own name, but in the name 
of the majesty of the Roman people. ■ Nam suo 
nomine compescere erat invidiosum, sub alieno 
facile, et utile. Ergo specie legis tractabat quasi 
majestas populi Romani infamaretur.^ 

* O that he hadgivenlo these trifles all those days of cruelty. 

^For it was invidious to check them in his own name, but 
easy and expedient to do it under another; therefore, he con- 
trived, the law in such form, as if the majesty of the Roman 
people was insulted. — 3?ub. 



60 LACON. 

Pettifoggers in law., and empirics in medicine 

whether their patients lose or save their property, 
or their lives, take care to be, in either case, equally 
remunerated ; they profit by both horns of the 
dilemma, and press defeat, no less than success, 
into their service. They hold from time immemo- 
rial, the fee-simple of a vast estate, subject to no 
alienation, diminution, revolution, nor tax ; the folly 
and ignorance of mankind. Over this extensive 
domain, they have long had, by undisputed usance, 
the sole management and control, inasmuch as the 
real owners most strenuously and sturdily disclaim 
all right, title, and proprietorship therein. 



&vha; Sciolists have discovered a short path to 
celebrity. Having heard that it is a vastly silly 
thing to believe every thing, they take it for granted, 
that it must be a vastly wise thing to believe nothing, 
They therefore set up for freethinkers ; but theil: 
only stock in trade is, that they are free from 
thinking. It is not safe to contemn them, nor very 
easy to convince them ; since no persons make so 
large a demand against the reason of others, as 
those who have none of their own ; as a highway- 
man will take greater liberties with our purse, than 
our banker. 



The pope conducts himself towards our Heavenly 
master, as a knavish steward does to an earthly one. 
He says to the tenants, you may continue to neglect 
my master's interests as much as you please, but 
keep on good terms with me, and I will take care 
that you shall be on good terms with, my master.* 

* In the book of Religious Rates, registered in the court 
■^f France, in the year 1G99, are the following items : Abso- 



LACON. CI 

When the great Frederick, the enlightened phi- 
losopher of Sans Souci, heard of the petitions and 
remonstrances sent to the throne from our towns 
and counties, he was heard to exclaim, ' Ah, why 
am not I their king ? with a hundred thousand of 
my troops round the throne, and a score or two of 
executioners in my train, I should soon make those 
proud islanders as dutiful as they are brave, and 
myself the first monarch in the universe? But it 
would have been only by and with a parliament 
that he could have raised any supplies ; and Charles 
the First, might have taught him the danger of 
attempting to reign without one. Either his hun- 
dred thousand men would have mutinied for want 
of pay, or, if he had attempted to support them by 
unconstitutional measures, his executioners might 
eventually be called upon to perform a tragedy, in 
which this adventurous monarch himself might 
have been under the awkward necessity of per- 
forming the principal part. 



There are a vast number of easy, pliable, good- 
natured human expletives in the world, who are just 
what that world chooses to make them ; they glitter 
without pride, and are affable without humility ; 
they sin without enjoyment, and pray without devo- 
tion ; they are charitable, not to benefit the poor, 
but to court the rich ; profligate without passion, 
they are debauchees, to please others and to punish 
themselves. — Thus, a youth without fire, is fol- 
lowed by an old age without experience, and they 

lution for apostacy, 80 livres ; for bigamy, 10,050 ; ditto for 
homicide, 95; dispensation for a great irregularity, 50 
livres j dispensation from vows of chastity, 15. 
6 



T* 



62 LAC ON. 

continue to float down tlie tide of time, as circumstan- 
ces or chance may dictate, divided between God and 
the world, and serving both, but rewarded by neither. 

In the obscurity of retirement, amid the squalid 
poverty and revolting privations of a cottage, it has 
often been my lot to witness scenes of magnanimity 
and self-denial, as much beyond the belief, as the 
practice of the great; a heroism borrowing no 
support, either from the gaze of the many or the 
admiration of the few, yet flourishing amidst ruins, 
and on the confines of the grave ; a spectacle as 
stupendous in the moral world, as the Falls of Ni- 
agara, in the natural ; and, like that mighty cata- 
ract, doomed to display its grandeur, only where 
there are no eyes to appreciate its magnificence. 



Lady Mary Wortly Montague observed, that in 
the whole course of her long and extensive travels, 
she had found but two sorts of people, men and 
women. This simple remark was founded on no 
small knowledge of human nature ; but, we might 
add, that even this distinction, narrow as it is, is 
now gradually disappearing ; for some of our beaux, 
are imitating the women, in every thing that is little, 
and some of our women are imitating the men, in 
every thing that is great. 

Miss Edgeworth and Madame de Stael, have 
proved that there is no sex in style ; and Madame 
La Roche Jacqueline, and the Dutchess d'An- 
gouleme, have proved that there is no sex in courage. 
Barbarous or refined, in rags or in ruffles, at St. 
Giles's or St. James's, covered with the skins of 
quadrupeds, or the costly entrails of an insect, we 
are in essentials the same. We pursue the same 



L A C N . 83 

good, and fly the same evils ; we loathe and love, 
and hope and fear, from causes that differ little in 
themselves, but only in their circumstances and 
modifications. Hence, it happens, that the irony 
of Lucian, the discriminations of Theophrastus, 
the strength of Juvenal, and the wit of Horace, are 
felt and relished alike by those who have inhaled 
the clear air of the Partheon, the skies of Italy, or 
the fogs of London ; and have been alike admired 
on the banks of the Melissus, the Tiber, or the 
Thames. A Scotch highlander was taken prisoner 
by a tribe of Indians, his life was about to be sacri- 
ficed, when the chief adopted him as his son. They 
carried him into the interior ; he learned their lan- 
guage, assumed their habits, and became skilful in 
the use of their arms. After a season, the same 
tribe began their route to join the French army, 
at that time opposed to the English. It was neces- 
sary to pass near to the English lines during the 
night. Very early in the morning, and it was 
spring, the old chief roused the young highlander 
from his repose : he took him to an eminence and 
pointed out to him the tents of his countrymen. 
The old man appeared to be dreadfully agitated, 
and there was a keen restlessness in his eye. 
After a pause : * I lost,' said he, ' my only son, in 
the battle with your nation ; are you the only son 
of your father ? and do you think that your father 
is yet alive V The young man replied, ' I am the 
only son of my father, and hope that my father is 
yet alive V They stood close to a beautiful mag- 
nolia, in full blossom. The prospect was grand 
and enchanting, and all its charms were crowned 
by the sun, which had fully emerged from the ho- 
rizon. The old chief, looking steadfastly at his 



LACO N, 64 

companion, exclaimed, ' Let thy heart rejoice at 
the beauty of the scene ! to me it is a desert ; but 
you are free ; return to your countrymen, revisit 
your father, that he may again rejoice when ho 
sees the sun rise in the morning, and the trees 
blossom in the spring !' 



False reasoners are often best confuted by giving 
them the full swing of their own absurdities. Some 
arguments may be compared to wheels, where half 
a turn will put every thing upside down that is 
attached to their peripheries ; but if we complete 
the circle, all things will be just where w r e found 
them. Hence, it is common to say, that arguments 
that prove too much, prove nothing. I once heard 
a gentleman affirm, that all mankind were governed 
by a strong and overruling influence, which deter- 
mined all their actions, and over which they had 
no control ; and the inference deducible from such 
a position was, that there was no distinction be- 
tween virtue or vice. Now, let us give this mode 
of reasoning full play. A murderer is brought be- 
fore a judge, and sets up this strong and overruling 
propensity as a justification of his crime. Now, 
the judge, even if he admitted the plea, must, on 
the criminal's own showing, condemn him to death. 
He would thus address the prisoner : You had a 
strong propensity to commit a murder, and this, 
you say, must do away the guilt of your crime ; 
but I have a strong propensity to hang you for it, 
and this, I say, must also do away the guilt of your 
punishment. 

Men of great and shining qualities do not always 
succeed in life, but the fault lies more often in them- 



LA CON. 65 

selves than in others. Doctor Johnson was pro- 
nounced to be an improducible man, by a cour- 
tier ; and Dr. Watson was termed an impracticable 
man, by a king. A ship may be well equipped, 
both as to sails and as to guns, but if she be des- 
titute of ballast, and of rudder, she can neither right 
with effect, nor fly with adroitness ; and she must 
strike, to a vessel less strong, but more manage- 
able : and so it is with men ; they may have the 
gifts both of talent and of wit, but unless they 
have also prudence and judgment to dictate the 
when, the where, and the how, those gifts are to 
be exerted, the possessors of them will be doomed 
to conquer only where nothing is to be gained, but 
to be defeated where every thing is to be lost ; 
they will be outdone by many men of less brilliant, 
but. more convertible qualifications, and whose 
strength in one point, is not counterbalanced by 
any disproportion in another. Disappointed men, 
who think they have talents, and who hint that 
their talents have not been properly rewarded, 
usually finish their career by writing their own his- 
tory ; but in detailing their misfortunes, they only 
let us into the secret of their mistakes ; and, in 
accusing their patrons of blindness, make it appear 
that they ought rather to have accused them of 
sagacity ; since it would seem that they saw too 
much, rather than too little ; namely, that second- 
rate performances were too often made the founda- 
tion of first-rate pretensions. Disappointed men, 
in attempting to make us weep at the injustice of 
one patron, or the ingratitude of another, only make 
us smile at their own denial of self-importance 
which they have, and at their assumption of a phi- 
losophic indifference which they have not, 
6* 



€6 LACON. 

Love may exist without jealousy, although this 
is rare; but jealousy may exist without love, and 
this is common : for jealousy can feed on that which 
is bitter, no less than on that which is sweet, and 
is sustained by pride, as often as by affection. 



There are three modes of bearing the ills of life ; 
by indifference, which is the most common ; by 
philosophy, which is the most ostentatious ; and by 
religion, which is the most effectual. It has been 
acutely said, that 'philosophy readily triumphs over 
past or future evils, but that present evils triumph 
over philosophy. 9 Philosophy is a goddess, whose 
head indeed is in heaven, but whose feet are upon 
earth : she attempts more than she accomplishes, 
and promises more than she performs ; she can 
teach us to hear of the calamities of others with 
magnanimity ; but it is religion only that can teach 
us to bear our own with resignation. 



There are some frauds so well conducted, that it 
would be stupidity not to be deceived by them. A 
wise man, therefore, may be duped as well as a fool ; 
but the fool publishes the triumph of his deceiver ; 
the wise man is silent, and denies that triumph to 
an enemy which he would hardly concede to a 
friend ; a triumph that proclaims his own defeat. 

The true motives of our actions, like the real 
pipes of an organ, are usually concealed. But the 
gilded and the hollow pretext, is pompously placed 
in the front of show. 



L A C O N. 67 

An act, by which we make one friend, and one 
enemy, is a losing game ; because revenge is a 
much stronger principle than gratitude. 

Our minds are as different as our faces ; we are 
all travelling to one destination — happiness ; but 
none are going by the same road. 



A king of England has an interest in preserving 
the freedom of the press, because it is his interest 
to know the true state of the nation, which the 
courtiers would fain conceal, but of which a free 
press alone can inform him. 



Bigotry murders religion, to frighten fools with 
her ghost. 



The wisest man may be wiser to-day, than he 
was yesterday, and to-morrow, than he is to-day. 
Total freedom from change, would imply total free- 
dom from error ; but this is the prerogative of 
Omniscience alone. The world, however, is very 
censorious, and will hardly give a man credit for sim- 
plicity and singleness of heart, who is not only in the 
habit of changing his opinions, but also of bettering 
his fortunes by every change. Butler, in his best 
manner, has ridiculed this tergiversation, by asking : 

' What makes all doctrines plain and clear 1 
About two hundred pounds a-year. 
And what was proved quite plain before, 
Proved false again 1 — Two hundred more.' 

When, indeed, we dismiss our old opinions and 
embrace new ones, at the expense of worldly profit 
and advantage, there mav be some who wll doubt 



68 LACON. 

of our discernment, but there will be none who 
will impeach our sincerity. He that adopts new 
opinions at the expense of every worldly comfort, 
gives proof of an integrity, differing only in de- 
gree, from that of him, who clings to old ones at 
the hazard of every danger. This latter effort of 
integrity has been described by Butler, in a manner 
which proves that sublimity and wit are not inva- 
riably disconnected : — 

' For loyalty is still the same, 
Whether it win or lose the game ; 
True as the dial to the sun, 
Although it be not shined upon.' 

Therefore, when men of admitted talent, and of 
high consideration, come over to truth, it is always 
better, both for their own and future times, that 
they should come over unto her, for herself alone ; 
that they should embrace her as a naked and un- 
portioned virgin, an ' Indotata Virgo?* most adorned, 
when deprived of all extrinsic adornment, and most 
beautiful, when she has nothing but herself to be- 
stow. But, in the civil, no less than in the eccle- 
siastical horizon, there will ever be some wandering 
stars, whose phases we may predict, and whose 
aspects we may calculate, because we know the 
two forces that regulate their motions ; they are, 
the love of profit, and the love of praise ; but, as 
these two pow r ers happen to be equal and contrary, 
the career of all bodies, under their joint influence, 
must be that of a diagonal between the two. A 
certain non-conformist having accepted of a rich 
benefice, wished to justify himself to his friend ; 
he invited him to dinner on a certain day, and ad- 

* A dower less maiden. — Pub. 



L A CON, 69 

ded, that, he would then show him eight satisfactory 
reasons for his tergiversation. His friend came, 
and on his refusing to sit down until he had pro 
duced his eight reasons, our host pointed to the 
dinner table, which was garnished by a wife and 
seven children. Another, on a similar occasion, 
attempted to exculpate himself by saying, i We must 
live.'' Dr. Johnson would have replied, * i" see no 
absolute necessity for that. 1 But if we admit this 
necessity, it might be answered by another, — that 
we must also die. 



We hate some persons because we do not know 
them ; and we will not know them, because we 
hate them. The friendships that succeed to such 
aversions are usually firm, for those qualities must 
be sterling, that could not only gain our hearts. 
but conquer our prejudices. But the misfortune is, 
that we carry these prejudices into things far more 
serious than our friendships. Thus, there are 
truths, which some men despise, because they hav^ 
not examined, and which they will not examine, 
because they despise. There is one single instance 
on record, where this kind of prejudice was over- 
come by a miracle ; — but the age of miracles is 
past, while that of prejudice remains. 



The awkwardness and embarrassment which all 
feel on beginning to write, when they themselves 
.are the theme, ought to serve as a hint to authors, 
that self is a subject they ought very rarely to 
descant upon. It is extremely easy to be as ego- 
tistical as Montaigne, and as conceited as Rous- 
seau ; but it is extremely difficult to be as enter- 
taining as the one, or as eloquent as the other, 



70 LACON. 

Men whose reputation stands deservedly nigh as 
writers, have often miserably failed as speakers : 
their pens seem to have been enriched at the ex- 
pense of their tongues. Addison and Gibbon at- 
tempted oratory in the senate, only to fail. ' The 
gGod speakers,' says Gibbon, 'filled, me loith despair. 
the bad ones with apprehension? And in more mo- 
dern times, the powerful depicter of Harold, and 
the elegant biographer of. Leo, have both failed in 
oratory ; the capital of the former is so great in 
many things, that he can afford to fail in one. But 
to return, many reasons might be offered to recon- 
cile that contradiction which my subject seems to 
involve. In the first place, those talents that con- 
stitute a line writer, are more distinct from those 
that constitute an orator, than might be at first, 
supposed ; 1 admit that they may be sometimes 
accidentally, but never necessarily combined. — 
That the qualifications for writing and those for 
eloquence, are in many points distinct, would ap- 
pear from the converse of the proposition, for there 
have been many fine speakers, who have proved 
themselves bad writers. There is good ground for 
believing that Mr. Pitt would not have shone as an 
author ; and the attempt of Mr. Fox in that arena, 
has added nothing to his celebrity. Abstraction 
of thought, seclusion from popular tumult, occa- 
sional retirement to the study, a diffidence in our 
own opinions, a deference to those of other men, a 
sensibility that feels every thing, a humility that 
arrogates nothing, are necessary qualifications for 
a writer ; but their very opposites would perhaps 
be preferred by an orator. He that has spent much 
of his time in a study, will seldom be collected 
enough to think in a crowd, or confident enough to 



LA CON. 7] 

talk in one. We may also add, that mistakes of 
the pen in the study, may be committed without 
publicity, and rectified without humiliation. But 
mistakes of the tongue, committed in the senate, 
never escape with impunity. ' Fugit irrcvocabile 
verbum.'* Eloquence, to produce her full effect, 
should start from the head of the orator, as Pallas 
from the brain of Jove, completely armed and 
equipped. Diffidence, therefore, which is so able 
a mentor to the writer, would prove a dangerous 
counsellor for the orator. As writers, the most 
timid may boggle twenty times in a day with their- 
pen, and it is their own fault if it be known even to 
their valet ; but, as orators, if they chance to boggle 
once with their tongue, the detection is as public 
as the delinquency ; the punishment is irremis- 
sible, and immediately follows the offence. It is 
the knowledge and the fear of this, that destroys 
their eloquence as orators, who have sensibility 
and taste for writing, but neither collectedness nor 
confidence for speaking ; for fear not only magni- 
fies difficulties, but diminishes our power to over- 
come them, and thus doubly debilitates her victims. 
But another cause of their deficiency as orators, 
who have shone as writers, is this, ' mole ruunt 
sua ;' they know they have a character to support 
by their tongue, which they have previously gained 
by their pen. They rise, determined to attempt 
more than other men, and for that very reason they 
effect less, and doubly disappoint their hearers. 
They miss of that which is clear, obvious, and ap- 
propriate, in a laboured search after that which is 
far-fetched, recondite, and refined; like him that 

* The word uttered is irrevocable. — Pub. 



72 LAC ON. 

would lain give us better bread than can be made 
of wheat. Affectation is the cause of this error, 
disgust its consequence, and disgrace its punish 
ment. 



Sensibility would be a good portress, if she had 
but one hand ; with her right she opens the door 
to pleasure, but with her left to pain. 



It would be most lamentable if the good things 
of this world were rendered either more valuable, 
or more lasting ; for, despicable as they already 
are, too many are found eager to purchase them, 
even i.: L rice of their souls!* 



Kope is a prodigal young heir, and Experience 
is his banker ; but his drafts are seldom honoured, 
since there is often a heavy balance against him, 
because he draws largely on a small capital, is not 
yet in possession, and if he were, would die. 

We might perhaps with truth affirm, that all 
nations £a, at all times, enjoy exactly as much 
liberty as they deserve, and no more. But it is 

* That the wicked prosper in the world, that they come 
into no misfortune i ike other folks, neither are they plagued 
like other men, is a doctrine that divines should not broach 
too frequently in the present day. For there are some so 
completely absorbed in present things, that they would sub- 
scribe to that blind and blasphemous wish of the marshal 
and duke of Biron, who, on hearing an ecclesiastic observe, 
that those whom God had forsaken and deserted as incor- 
r igible,were permitted their full swing of worldly pleasures, 
the gratification of all their passions, and a long life of 
sensuality, affluence, and indulgence, immediately replied, 
That he should be most happy to be so forsaken.' 



LACON. n 

evident this observation applies only to those 
nations that are strong enough to maintain their 
independence ; because a country may be over- 
whelmed by a powerful neighbour, as Greece by 
Turkey, Italy by France ; or a state may be made 
the victim of a combination of other states, as 
Poland, or Saxony, or Genoa ; and it is not meant 
to affirm that all of these enjoy as much liberty as 
they deserve : for nations, as well as individuals, 
are not exempted from some evils, for the causes of 
which they cannot justly accuse themselves. But 
if we return to our first position, we might perhaps 
with truth affirm, that France, in the commence- 
ment of her revolution, was too mad, that during 
the reign of terror she was too cowardly, and 
under the despotism of Napoleon, too ambitious, 
to be worthy of so great a blessing as liberty. Sho 
is now gradually becoming more rational, and, in 
the same proportion, more free. Of some of the 
other nations of Europe, we might observe, that 
Portugal and Spain are too ignorant and bigoted 
for freedom, ■' populus vult decipi;'* that Russia is 
too barbarous ; and Turkey, in all points, too de- 
based, and too brutalized, to deserve to be free ; 
for as the physically blind can have no light, so the 
intellectually blind can have no liberty ; Germany, 
inasmuch as she seems to merit freedom the most, 
will probably first attain it ; but not by assassina- 
tion; for power uses the dungeon, when despair 
uses the dagger. In England, we enjoy quite as 
much liberty as we are worthy or capable of, if we 
consider the strong and deep ramifications of that 
corruption that pervades us. It is a corruption not 

* The people are loilling to be deceived. — Tub. 



74 LACOK. 

restricted to the representative, but commencing 
with the constituent ; and if the people are sold by- 
others, it is because they have first sold themselves. 
If mercy is doubly blessed, corruption is doubly 
cursed ; cursed be it then, both ' in him that gives^ 
and in him that takes J for no man falls without a 
stumbling-block, nor yields without a tempter. In 
confirmation of what has been advanced above, we 
might also add, that all national benefits, of which 
liberty is the greatest, form as complete and visible 
a part of God's moral administration already begun, 
as those blessings that are particular and individu- 
al; we might even say, that the former, are more 
promptly and punctually bestowed than the latter ; 
because nations, in their national capacity, can exist 
only on earth; and, therefore, it is on earth alone, 
that as nations, they can be punished or rewarded ; 
but individuals will exist in another state, and in 
that they will meet a full and final retribution. It is 
a moral obligation, therefore, on nations, to defend 
their freedom, and by defending, to deserve it. 
Noble minds, when struggling for their liberties, 
often save themselves by their firmness, and always 
inspire others by their example. Therefore, the 
reign of terror to which France submitted, has been 
more justly termed ' the reign of cowardice^ One 
knows not which most to execrate ; the nation that 
could submit to suffer such atrocities, or that low 
and bloodthirsty demagogue that, could inflict them. 
France, in succumbing to such a wretch as Robes- 
pierre, exhibited not her patience, but her pusil- 
lanimity. I have read of a king of Spain, who 
having inadvertently expressed some compassion 
for one of the victims at an auto defe, was con- 
demned to lose one quart of his blood, which the 



LACON. 75 

inquisitor-general insisted should be publicly burnt 
by the hands of the common hangman, in the great 
square of Madrid. Here again, we know not 
which most to despise, the monarch that could sub- 
mit to such a sentence, or the proud priest that 
could pronounce it ; and the most galling of all fet- 
ters, those riveted by superstition, well befitted that 
people, that could tamely behold such an insult 
offered to their king. This then seems to be the 
upshot of what has been advanced, that liberty is 
the highest blessing that a nation can enjoy ; that 
it must be first deserved before it can be enjoyed, and 
that it is the truest interest of the prince, no less 
than of the people, to employ all just and honest 
means, that it may be both deserved and enjoyed. 
But as civil liberty is the greatest blessing, so civil 
discord is the greatest curse, that can befall a 
nation ; and a people should be as cautious of 
straining their privilege, as a prince his prerogative ; 
for the true friend of both, knows that either, if 
they submit to encroachments to-day, are only pre- 
paring for themselves greater evils for to-morrow — 
humiliation or resistance. But as corruption can- 
not thrive where none will submit to be corrupted, 
so also oppression cannot prosper, where none will 
submit to be enslaved. Rome had ceased to be 
tenanted by Romans, or Nero would not have dared 
to amuse himself with his fiddle, nor Caligula with 
his horse. 



There are many books, written by many men, 
from which two truths only are discoverable by 
the readers ; namely, that the writers thereof 
wanted two things — principle and preferment. 



70 L A C N, 

Pride, like the magnet, constantly points to one 
object, self; but unlike the magnet, it has no at- 
tractive pole, but at all points repels. 



Men are born with two eyes, but with one tongue, 
in order that they should see twice as much as 
they say ; but, from their conduct one would sup- 
pose that they were born with two tongues, and 
one eye ; for those talk the most, who have ob- 
served the least, and obtrude their remarks upon 
every thing, who have seen into nothing. 



Reform is a good, replete with paradox ; it is a 
cathartic which our political quacks, like our med 
ical, recommend to others, but will not take them- 
selves ; it is admired by all who cannot effect it, 
and abused by all who can ; it is thought pregnant 
with danger, for all time that is present, but would 
have been extremely profitable for that which is 
past, and will be highly salutary for that which is 
to come ; therefore it has been thought expedient 
for all administrations which have been, or that will 
be, but by any particular one which is, it is con- 
sidered, like Scotch grapes, to be very seldom ripe, 
and by the time it is so, to be quite out of season. 



As in literature we shall find some things that 
are true, and some that are new, but very few 
things that are both true and new ; so also in life, 
we shall find some men that are great, and some 
that are good, but very few men that are both grea* 
and good ; * Hoc opus, hie labor est. 1 * 

* This is the labour, this the toil. — Pcb. 



LA CON. 77 

It is not so difficult a task to plant new truths, as 
to root out old errors ; for there is this paradox in 
men, they run after that which is new, but are pre- 
judiced in favour of that which is old. Home 
Tooke* obtained a double triumph over the Hermes 
of Mr. Harris, for he not only extirpated old errors, 
but planted new truths in their place. He came to 
the ' Terra Incognita? as the settler to an unculti- 
vated tract. He found the soil as dark with error, 
and as stubborn with prejudice, as that of the forest 
with trees and with roots : he had to clear, before 
he could cultivate, and to smooth before he could 
sow. 



Theory is worth but little, unless it can explain 
its own phenomena, and it must effect this with- 
out contradicting itself; therefore, the facts are 
sometimes assimilated to the theory, rather than 
the theory to the facts. Most theorists may be 
compared to the grandfather of the great Frede- 

* This gentleman's political principles were too violent 
and too gloomy ; but all parties will give their suffrages 
to the brilliancy of his talents, and his grammatical labours 
cannot be appreciated too highly. An English Dictionary 
' from such hands would have "been indeed a treasure. I 
have elsewhere observed, that we put up with Johnson's 
Dictionary for want of a better, as a mal-government is 
better than a state of total confusion. Dr. Johnson reversed 
the sneer passed upon lexicographers, for he is more often 
wrong in his comprehension of one word than of two put 
together. But when we consider that the l Diversions of 
Purley' proceeded from the same pen that beat Junius at 
his own weapons, we then know not which most to admire, 
the author's knowledge of single words, or of words put 
together. The critics could not quite forget his politics in 
their appreciation of his powers, and there were some who 
would have broken his head, if they could have done it 
without exposing his brains. 



78 LA CON. 

rick, who was wont to amuse himself, during his 
fits of the gout, by painting likenesses of his gren- 
adiers , if the picture did not happen to resemble 
the grenadier, he settled the matter by painting 
the grenadier to the picture. To change the illus- 
tration, we might say, that theories may be admired 
for the ingenuity that has been displayed in build- 
ing them ; but they are better for a lodging than 
a habitation, because the scaffolding is often stronger 
than the house, and the prospects continually liable 
to be built out by some opposite speculator • nei- 
ther are these structures very safe in stormy 
weather, and are in need of constant repair, which 
can never be accomplished without much trouble, 
and always at a great expense of truth. Of modern 
theorists, Gall and Spurzheim are too ridiculous 
even to be laughed at ; we admire Locke and 
Hartley, for the profundity and ingenuity of their 
illustrations ; and Lavater for his plausibility ; but 
none of them for their solidity. Locke, however, 
was an exception to this paradox so generally to 
be observed in theorists, who, like Lord Monboddo, 
are the most credulous of men with respect to 
what confirms theory, but perfect infidels as to any 
facts that oppose it. Mr. Locke, I believe, had no 
opinions which he would not most readily exchange 
for truth. A traveller showed Lavater two por- 
traits ; the one of a highwayman who had been 
broken upon a wheel, the other was the portrait of 
Kant the philosopher ; he was desired to distin- 
guish between them. Lavater took up the portrait 
of the highwayman , after attentively considering it 
for some time, ' Here,' says he, ' we have the true 
philosopher, here is penetration in the eye, and 
reflection in the forehead ; here is cause, and there 



LACON. 79 

is cflect , here is combination, there is distinction ; 
synthetic lips ! and an analytic nose !' Then turning 
to the portrait of the philosopher, he exclaims, ' The 
calm thinking villain is so well, expressed, and so 
strongly marked in this countenance, that it needs 
no comment.' This anecdote Kant used to tell 
with great glee. Dr. Darwin informs us, that the 
reason why the bosom of a beautiful woman is an 
object of such peculiar delight, arises from hence ; 
that all our first pleasurable sensations of warmth, 
sustenance, and repose, are derived from this inte- 
resting source. This theory had a fair run, until 
some one happened to reply, that all who were 
brought up by hand, had derived their first pleasu- 
rable sensations from a very different source, and yet 
that not one of all these had ever been known to 
evince any very rapturous or amatory emotions at 
the sight of a wooden spoon ! ! 



It is better to be laughed at, than ruined ; bettei 
to have a wife, who, like Martial's Mamurra, 
cheapens every thing, and buys nothing, than to be 
empoverished by one whose vanity will purchase 
every thing, but whose pride will cheapen nothing. 

He that can charm a whole company by singing, 
and at the age of thirty, has no cause to regret so 
dangerous a gift, is a very extraordinary, and I may 
add, a very fortunate man. 



Those characters, who, like Yentidius, spring 
from the very dregs of society, and going through 
every gradation of life, continue like him, to rise 
with every change, and who never quit a single step 
in the ladder, except it be to gain a higher one, 



SO LACON, 

these men are superior to fortune, and know how 
to enjoy her caresses without being the slaves of 
her caprice. But those with whom she can com- 
plete the circle, whom she can elevate from the 
lowest stations into the highest, detrude them 
again, and lastly leave them where she found them, 
these are the roturiers, that only serve to make her 
sport ; they are her mines, and her pantomimes, 
her harlequins, and her buffoons. 



In answering an opponent, arrange your ideas, 
but not your words : consider in what points things 
that resemble, differ ; and in w T hat those things that 
differ, resemble ; reply with wit to gravity, and 
with gravity to wit ; make a full concession to 
your adversary, and give him every credit for those 
arguments you know r you can answer, and slur 
over those you feel you cannot ; but above all, 
if lie have the privilege of making his reply, take 
especial care that the strongest thing you have to 
urge is the last. He must immediately get up and 
say something, and if he be not previously pre- 
pared with an answer to your last argument, he 
will infallibly be boggled, for very few possess 
that remarkable talent of Charles Fox, who could 
talk on one thing, and at the same time think of 
another. 



A great mind may change its objects, but it can 
not relinquish them ; it must have something to 
pursue : Variety is its relaxation, and amusement 
its repose. 

Our very best friends have a tincture of jealousy 
even in their friendship ; and when they hear us 



LAO ON. SI 

praised by others, will ascribe it to sinister and 
interested motives if they can. 



That historian who would describe a favourite 
character, as faultless, raises another at the expense 
of himself. Zeuxis made five virgins contribute 
their charms to his single picture of Helen ; and it 
is as vain for the moralist to look for perfection in 
the mind, as for the painter to expect to find it in 
the body. In fact, the sad realities of life give us 
no great cause to be proud either of our minds, or 
of our bodies ; but we can conceive in both, the pos- 
sibility of much greater excellence than exists. 
The statue of the Belvidere Apollo, is quite as 
likely to be married, as he that will have no wife 
until he can discover a woman that equals the 
Venus of Cleomenes. 



Always suspect a man who affects great softness 
of manner, an unruffled evenness of temper, and 
an enunciation studied, slow^, and deliberate. These 
things are all unnatural, and bespeak a degree of 
mental discipline into which he that has no pur- 
poses of craft or design to answer, cannot submit to 
drill himself. The most successful knaves are 
usually of this description, as smooth as razors 
dipped in oil, and as sharp. — They affect the inno- 
cence of the dove, which they have not, in order 
to hide the cunning of the serpent, which they 
have. 



Laboured letters, written like those of Pope, 
yet apparently in all the ease of private confidence, 
but which the writer meant one day to publish, may 
he compared to that dishabille in which a beauty 



82 LA CON. 

would wish you to believe you have surprised her, 
after spending three hours at her toilet- 



That country where the clergy have the most 
influence, and use it with the most moderation, is 
E norland. 



The most ridiculous of all animals is a proud 
priest ; he cannot use his own tools, without cut- 
ting his own fingers 

He that will have no books but those that are 
scarce, evinces about as correct a taste in litera- 
ture, as he would do in friendship, who would have 
no friends, but those whom all the rest of the 
world have sent to Coventry. 



To excel others is a proof of talent ; but to 
know when to conceal that superiority, is a greater 
proof of prudence. The celebrated orator Domi 
tius Afer, when attacked in a set speech by 
Caligula, made no reply, affecting to be entirely 
overcome by the resistless eloquence of the tyrant. 
Had he replied, he would certainly have conquer- 
ed, and as certainly have died ; but he wisely pre- 
ferred a defeat that saved his life, to a victory that 
would have cost it. 



It proceeds rather from revenge than malice, 
when we hear a man affirm that all the world are 
knaves. For before a man draws this conclusion 
of the world, the world has usually anticipated him, 
and concluded all this of him who makes the 
observation. Such men may be compared to 
Brothers the prophet, who, on being asked how ho 



L A C O S . S3 

came to be clapped up into Bedlam, replied, I 
and the world happened to have a slight difference 
of opinion ; the world said I was mad, and I said 
the world was mad ; I was outvoted, and here I am 



Villains are usually the worst casuists, and rush 
into greater crimes to avoid less. Henry the eighth 
committed murder to avoid the imputation of adul- 
tery ; and in our times, those who commit the latter 
crime attempt to wash off the stain of seducing the 
wife, by signifying their readiness to shoot the 
husband ! 



Very great personages are not likely to form 
very just estimates, either of others or of them- 
selves ; their knowledge of themselves, is obscured 
by the flattery of others ; their knowledge of others, 
is equally clouded by circumstances peculiar to 
themselves. For in the presence of the great, the 
modest are sure to suffer from too much diffidence, 
and the confident from too much display. Sir 
Robert Vv r alpole has affirmed^that the greatest dif- 
ficulty he experienced in finding out others, was 
the necessity which his high situation imposed 
upon him, of concealing himself. Great men, 
however, are in one respect to be blamed, and in 
another, to be pitied. They are to be blamed for 
bestowing their rewards on the servile, while they 
give the independent only their praise. They are 
to be pitied, inasmuch as they can only view things 
through the moral obfuscation of flattery, which, 
like the telescope, can diminish at one end and 
magnify at the other. And hence it happens, that 
this vice, though it may be rewarded for a time, 
usually meets with its punishment in the end. For 



84 LACON. 

the sycophant begins by treating his patron as 
something more than a man, and the patron very 
naturally finishes, by treating the sycophant as 
something less. 

I think it is Warburton, who draws a very just 
distinction between a man of true greatness, and a 
mediocrist. ' If,' says he, ' you want to recom- 
mend yourself to the former, take care that he 
quits your society with a good opinion of you ; if 
your object is to please the latter, take care that he 
leaves you with a good opinion of himself ? 

The most notorious swindler has not assumed 
so many names as self-love, nor is so much ashamed 
of his own. She calls herself patriotism, when at 
the same time she is rejoicing at just as much 
calamity to her native country, as will introduce 
herself into power, and expel her rivals. Dodding- 
ton who may be termed one of her darling sons, 
confesses in his Diary, that the source of all oppo- 
sition is resentment, or interest, a resolution to pull 
down those who have offended us, without consid- 
ering consequences ; a steady and unvarying at- 
tention to propose every thing that is specious, but 
impracticable ; to deprecate every thing that is 
blameless ; to exaggerate every thing that is 
biameable, until the people desire, and the crown 
consents, to dismiss those that are in office, and to 
admit those that are out. There are some patriots 
of the present day, who would find it as difficult to 
imitate Sheridan in his principles, as they would in 
his wit ; and his noble conduct during the mutiny 
at the Nore, will cover a multitude of sins. There 
are moments, when all minor considerations ought 



LACON. 85 

to yield to the public safety, < Cavendum est ne quid 
damni capiat Respublica'* And the opposition of 
this, or any country, might take a useful hint from 
what was observed in the Roman senate. While 
a question was under debate, every one was at 
freedom to advance his objections, but the question 
being once determined on, it became the acknow- 
ledged duty of every member to support the majo- 
rity ; Quod pluribus placuisset cunctis tuendum?\ 



Pleasure is to women, what the sun is to the 
flower : if moderately enjoyed, it beautifies, it 
refreshes, and it improves ; if immoderately, it 
withers, deteriorates, and destroys. But the duties 
of domestic life, exercised as they must be in re- 
tirement, and calling forth all the sensibilities of 
the female, are perhaps as necessary to the full 
development of her charms, as the shade and the 
shower are to the rose, confirming its beauty, and 
increasing its fragrance. 



If dissimulation is ever to be pardoned, it is that 
which men have recourse to, in order to obtain 
situations which may enlarge their sphere of gene- 
ral usefulness, and afford the power of benefiting 
their country, to those who must have been other- 
wise contented only with the will. — Liberty was 
more effectually befriended by the dissimulation of 
one Brutus, than by the dagger of the other. But 
such precedents are to be adopted but rarely, and 
more rarely to be advised. For a Cromwell is a 
much more common character than a Brutus ; and 

* Take care that the Republic receive no detriment^-'PvB, 
t The will of the majority should be respected by all.—FxrB* 
8 



m LACON. 

many men who have gained power by an hypocrisy 
as gross as that of Pope Sixtux, have not used it 
half so well. This pope, when cardinal, counter- 
feited sickness, and all the infirmities of age, so 
well, as to dupe the whole conclave. His name 
was Montalto ; and on a division for the vacant 
apostolic chair, he was elected as a stop-gap by 
both parties, under the idea that he could not pos - 
sibly live out the year. The moment he was 
chosen, he threw away his crutches, and began to 
sing Te Deum with a much stronger voice than his 
electors had bargained for ; and instead of walking 
with a tottering step, and a gait almost bending to 
the earth, he began to walk, not only firm, but per 
fectly upright. On some one remarking to him on 
this sudden change, he observed, while I was look- 
ing for the keys of St. Peter, it was necessary to 
stoop, but having found them, the case is altered. 
It is but justice to add, that he made a most excel- 
lent use of his authority and power ; and although 
some may have obtained the papal chair by less 
objectionable means, none have filled it with more 
credit to themselves, and satisfaction to others. 



It has been said, that to excel them in wit, is a 
thing the men find it the most difficult to pardon in 
women. This feeling, if it produce only emula- 
tion, is right, if envy, it is wrong. For a high de- 
gree of intellectual refinement in the female, is the 
surest pledge society can have for the improve 
ment of the male. But wit in women is a jewel, 
which, unlike all others, borrows lustre from its 
setting, rather than bestows it ; since nothing is so 
easy as to fancy a very beautiful woman extremely 
witty. Even Madame de Stael admits that she 



LAC ON.. 87 

discovered, as she grew old, the men could not find 
out that wit in her at fifty, which she possessed at 
twenty-five ; and yet the external attractions of 
this lady, were by no means equal to those of her 
mind. 



That politeness which we put on, in order to 
keep the assuming and the presumptuous at a pro- 
per distance, will generally succeed. But it some- 
times happens, that these obtrusive characters are 
on such excellent terms with themselves, that they 
put down this very politeness to the score of their 
own great merits and high pretensions, meeting 
the coldness of our reserve, with a ridiculous con- 
descension of familiarity, in order to set us at ease 
with ourselves. To a bystander, few things are 
more amusing, than the cross play, underplot, and 
final eclaircissements, which this mistake invariably 
occasions. 



England, with a criminal code the most bloody, 
and a civil code the most expensive in Europe, 
can, notwithstanding, boast of more happiness and 
freedom than any other country under heaven. 
The reason is, that despotism, and all its minor 
ramifications of discretionary power, lodged in the 
hands of individuals, is utterly unknown. The laws 
are supreme. 



The Christian does not pray to be delivered from 
glory, but from vain-glory. He also is ambitious 
of glory, and a candidate for honour ; but glory, in 
whose estimation? honour, in whose judgment? 
Not of those, whose censures can take nothing 
from his innocence ; whose approbation can take 



88 LAC ON. 

nothing from his guilt ; whose opinions are as fickle 
as their actions, and their lives as transitory as 
their praise ; who cannot search his heart, seeing 
that they are ignorant of their own. The Christian 
then seeks his glory in the estimation, and his 
honour in the judgment of Him alone, who, 

' From the bright Empyrean where he sits, 
High throned above all height, casts down his eye, 
His own works, and man's works, at once to view. 1 



The great Remora to any improvement in our 
civil code, is the reduction that such reform must 
produce in the revenue. The law's delay, bills of 
revival, rejoinder, and renewal, empty the stamp 
office of stamps, the pockets of plaintiff and de- 
fendant of their money, but unfortunately they fill 
the exchequer. Some one has said, that injustice, 
if it be speedy, would, in certain cases, be more 
desirable than justice, if it be slow ; and although 
we hear much of the glorious uncertainty of the 
law, yet all who have tried it will find, to their cost, 
that it can boast of two certainties, expense and 
delay. When I see what strong temptations there 
are that government should sympathize with the 
judge, the judge with the counsellor, and the coun- 
sellor with the attorney, in throwing every possible 
embarrassment in the way of legal despatch and 
decision, and when I weigh the humble, but com- 
parative insignificant interests of the mere plaintiff 
or defendant, against this combined array of talent, 
of influence, and power, I am no longer astonished 
at the prolongation of suits, and I wonder only at 
their termination.* 

* Mr. Jeremy Bentham considers litigation a great evil, 
and deems it the height of cruelty, to load a lawsuit, which 



L A C O N . 89 

It has been asked, which are the greatest minds, 
and to which do we owe the greatest reverence : 
3se 3 who, by the powerful deductions of rea- 
son, and the well known suggestions of analogy, 
have made profound discoveries in the science, as 
it were ' a priori P or to those, who, by the patient 
road of experiment, and the subsequent improve- 
ment of instruments, have brought these discoveries 
to perfection, as it were ' a posteriori f who have 
rendered that certain, which before was only con- 
jectural, practical, which was problematical, safe, 
which was dangerous, and subservient, which was 
unmanageable ? It would seem that the first class, 
demand our admiration, and the second, our grati- 
tude. Seneca predicted another hemisphere, but 
Columbus presented us with it. He that standing 
on the shore, foretells with truth, many of the un- 
discovered treasures of the ocean of science, even 

is one evil, with taxation, which is another. It would be 
quite as fair, he thinks, to tax a man for being ill, by enact- 
ing that no physician should write a prescription without 
a stamp. Mr. Pitt, on the contrary, considered a lawsuit a 
luxury, and held that, like other luxuries, it ought to be 
taxed. ' Westminster Hall.' said he, ' is as open to any 
man, as the London Tavern ;' to which Mr. Sheridan re- 
plied, ' he that entered either without money, would meet 
with a very scurvy reception.' Some will say that the heavy 
expenses of law prevent the frequency of lawsuits, but the 
practice does not confirm the theory. Others will say that 
they originate from men of obstinate and quarrelsome dis- 
positions, and that such ought to suffer for their folly. There 
would be something in this, provided, it w T ere not necessary 
for a wise man to take a shield, when a fool Lias taken a 
sword. Lawsuits, indeed, do generally originate with the 
-obstinate and the ignorant, but they do not end with them; 
and that lawyer was right, who left all his money to the 
bupport of an asylum for fools and lunatics, saying from 
such he received it, and to such he would bequeath it, 
8* 



90 LA CON. 

before the vessel that is to navigate it, can be fully- 
equipped for the voyage, gives us a convincing 
proof of exalted wisdom and of profound penetra- 
tion. But he that builds the vessel of experi- 
ment, and actually navigates the wide ocean of 
science, who, neither intimidated by the risk of 
failure, nor the expense of the outfit, realizes all 
that the other had only imagined, and returning 
laden with the stores of knowledge, communicates 
liberally, that which he has won so laudably, surely, 
the attainments of such a man are as fully entitled 
to our gratitude, as the anticipations of the other 
to our admiration. Sir Isaac Newton predicted, 
that both water and the diamond would be found to 
have an inflammable base, if ever they could be 
analyzed, a thing at that time uneiTected. He was 
led to this conclusion, by observing that all bodies 
possessed of high refractive powers, had an inflam 
mable base, and water and the diamond have those 
powers in a high degree. Subsequent experimen- 
talists have succeeded in analyzing both these sub- 
stances ; pure carbon is the base of the diamond, 
and hydrogen, the most inflammable of all airs, is 
the base of water. 

When Copernicus promulgated his planetary 
system, it was objected to it, that Mars and Venus 
ought to appear to us to be much greater at some 
periods than at others, because they would be nearer 
to the earth by so many diameters ; but no such, 
difference was apparent. The objection was solid, 
and Copernicus modestly replied, ' that it might be 
owing to the greatness of their distance.' Tele- 
scopes were discovered, and then it was found that 
he was right, and knowledge changed that into a 
confirmation, which ignorance had advanced as an 



L A CON. 04 

objection. Kant also, in modern times, predicted 
by analogy those planets beyond Saturn, which 
Herschell and others have now discovered by ob- 
servation. Kant had observed, that nature has no 
chasm in the links of her operations ; that she acts 
not per saltum* but pedetentim et gradatim^ and 
that the planetary world could not be made to 
approximate to, and as it were, shake hands with 
the cometary, unless there were some planets supe- 
rior to Saturn, having their orbits still more eccen- 
tric, and rilling that abyss of unoccupied space, 
which would otherwise exist between the most 
eccentric of the planets, and the least eccentric of 
the comets. This was affirmed by Kant, before 
HerschelFs forty feet reflector was brought to prove 
by observation, what he had anticipated by anal- 
ogy. But it is a mortifying truth, and ought to 
teach the wisest of us humility, that many of the 
most valuable discoveries have been the result of 
chance, rather than of contemplation, and of acci- 
dent rather than of design. 



Hypocrisy is a cruel stepmother, an ' injusta 
novercd'X to the honest, whom she cheats of their 
birthright, in order to confer it on knaves, to 
whom she is indeed a mother. ' Verily they have 
their reward? Let them enjoy it, but not accuse 
the upright, of an ignorance of the world, which 
might be more fairly retorted on the accuser. He 
that knows a little of the world, will admire it 

* At a leap. — Pub. 

t Step by step, and by degrees. — Pub. 

% A partial stepmother.- Pub. 



92 L AGON. 

enough to .fall down and worship it ; but he tha 
knows it most, will most despise it. ' Tinnit, inam 
est?* 



Repartee is perfect, when it effects its purpose 
with a double edge. Repartee is the highest or- 
der of wit, as it bespeaks the coolest, yet quickest 
exercise of genius, at a moment when the passions 
are roused. Voltaire, on hearing the name of 
Haller mentioned to him by an English traveller at 
Ferney, burst forth into a violent panegyric upon 
him ; his visiter told him that such praise was most 
disinterested, for that Haller by no means spoke so 
highly of him. ' Well, well, nHmportc? replied 
Voltaire, ' perhaps we are both mistaken.' 

Pain may be said to follow pleasure as it's sha- 
dow ; but the misfortune is, that in this particular 
case, the substance belongs to the shadow, the emp- 
tiness to its cause. 



By privileges, immunities, or prerogatives to 
give unlimited swing to the passions of individu- 
als, and then to hope that they will restrain them, 
is about, as reasonable, as to expect that the tiger 
will spare the hart, to browse upon the herbage. 



A man who knows the world, will not only make 
the most of every thing he does know, but of many 
things he does not know, and will gain more credit 
by his adroit mode of hiding his ignorance than 
the pedant by his awkward attempt to exhibit his 

* It rings, for it is empty. — Pub. 



LACON, ^ 

erudition. In Scotland, the 'jus ct norma loquend?* 
has made it the fashion to pronounce the law term 
utr tor, cur tor. Lord Mansfield gravely corrected 
i certain Scotch barrister when in court, repre- 
hending what appeared to English usage a false 
quantity, by repeating, ' cur tor, sir, if you please.' 
The barrister immediately replied, 'I am happy to be 
corrected by so great an or tor as your lordship !' 



Ambition makes the same mistake concerning 
power, that avarice makes concerning wealth : she 
begins by accumulating power, as a means to hap- 
piness, and she finishes by continuing to accumu- 
late it as an end. Ambition is in fact, the avarice 
of power, and happiness herself is soon sacrificed 
to that very lust of dominion, which was first encou- 
raged only as the best mode of obtaining it. Hyder, 
like Richard the Third, was observed by one of his 
most familiar companions, Gholaum Ali, to start 
frequently in his sleep; he once took the liberty to 
ask this despot ' of what he had been dreaming V 
1 My friend,' replied Hyder, ' the state of a beggar 
is more delightful than my envied monarchy; awake, 
they see no conspirators ; asleep, they dream of no 
assassins.' But ambition will indulge no other 
passions as her favourites, still less will she bear 
with them as rivals ; but as her vassals, she can 
employ them, or dismiss them at her will ; she is 
cold, because with her all is calculation; she is sys- 
tematic, because she makes every thing centre in 
herself; and she regards policy too much, to have 
the slightest respect to persons. Cruelty or com- 
passion, hatred or love, revenge or forbearance, are., 

* The rule and law of elocution. — Pub 



94 L A C N . 

to her votaries, instruments rather than influences, 

and msans rather than motives. These passions 
form indeed the disturbing forces of weaker minds, 
not unfrequently opposing their march and impe- 
ding their progress ; but ambition overrules these 
passions, and drawing them into the resistless 
sphere of her own attraction, she converts them 
into satellites, subservient to her career and aug- 
mentative of her splendour.* Yet ambition has not 
so wide a horizon as some have supposed : It is a 
horizon that embraces probabilities always, but 
impossibilities never. 

Cromwell followed little events before he ven- 
tured to govern great ones ; and Napoleon never 
sighed for the sceptre, until he had gained the trun- 
cheon; nor dreamt of the imperial diadem, until 
he had first conquered a crown. None of those 
who gaze at the height of a successful usurper, are 
more astonished at his sudden elevation, than he 
himself who has attained it ; but even he was led 
to it by degrees, since no man aspires to that which 
is entirely beyond his reach. Caligula was the 
only tyrant who was ever suspected of longing for 
the moon ; a proof of his madness, not of his ambi- 
tion : and if little children are observed to cry for 
the moon, it is because they fancy they can touch 
it ; it is beyond their desire, the moment they have 
discovered that it is beyond their reach. 



God will excuse our prayers for ourselves, when- 
ever we are prevented from them by being occu- 
pied by such good works as will entitle us to the 
prayers of others. 

* Sylla was an exception to this rule ; ambition in him 
was subordinate to revenge. 



LACO N . 95 

Pride often miscalculates, and more often mis- 
conceives. The proud man places himself at a 
distance from other men ; seen through that dis- 
tance, others perhaps appear little to him ; but he 
forgets that this very distance, causes him to appear 
equally little to others. 



The truly great, consider first, how they nay 
gain the approbation of God ; and secondly, that 
of their own conscience ; having done this, they 
would then willingly conciliate the good opinion of 
their fellow-men. But the truly little, reverse the 
thing ; the primary object with them is to secure 
the applause of their fellow-men, and having ef- 
fected this, the approbation of God and their own 
conscience may follow on as they can. 



There are some benefits which may be so con- 
ferred as to become the very refinement of revenge ; 
and there are some evils, which we had rather bear 
in sullen silence than be relieved from at the 
expense of our pride. In the reign of Abdallah 
the Third, there was a great drought at Bagdad ; 
the Mohammedan doctors issued a decree that the 
prayers of the faithful should be offered up for rain ; 
the drought continued ; the Jews were then per- 
mitted to add their prayers to those of the true 
believers ; the supplications of both were ineffec- 
tual ; as famine stared them in the face, those dogs, 
the Christians, were at length enjoined also to pray ; 
it so happened that torrents of rain immediately 
followed. The whole conclave, with the Mufti at 
their head, were now as indignant at the cessation 
of the drought, as they were before alarmed at its 
continuance. Some explanation was necessary to 



96 L A G M 

the people, and a holy convocation was held ; the 
members of it came to this unanimous determina- 
tion : That the God of their Prophet was highly 
gratified by the prayers of the faithful ; that they 
were as incense and as sweet smelling savour 
unto him, and that he refused their requests that he 
might prolong the pleasure of listening to their sup- 
plications ; but that the prayers of those Christian 
infidels were an abomination to the Deity, and that 
he granted their petitions, the sooner to get rid of 
their loathsome importunities ! 



Commenting lore makes a mighty parade, and 
builds a lofty pile of erudition, raised up like the 
pyramids, only to embalm some mouldering mum- 
my of antiquity, utterly unworthy of so laborious 
and costly a mode of preservation. With very few 
exceptions, commentators would have been much 
better employed in cultivating some sense for them- 
selves, than in attempting to explain the nonsense 
of others. How can they hope to make us under- 
stand a Plato, or an Aristotle, in cases wherein it 
is quite evident that neither of these philosophers 
understood themselves ? The head of a certain 
college at Oxford was asked by a stranger, what 
was the motto of the arms of that university ? He 
told him that it was l Dominus illuminatio mca?* 
But he also candidly informed the stranger, that in 
his private opinion, a motto more appropriate might 
be found in these words. — ' Aristoteles mew tcne- 
broe.'f 

* The Lord my light. — Pub. 
t Aristotle my darkness. — Pub. 



LACON. 97 

There are two things that speak as with a voice 
from heaven, that He who fills the eternal throne, 
must be on the side of virtue, and what he be- 
friends must finally prosper and prevail. The first 
is, that the bad are never completely happy and at 
ease, although possessed of every thing that this 
world can bestow ; and that the good are never 
completely miserable, although deprived of every 
thing that this world can take away. For there is 
one reflection which will obtrude itself, which the 
best would not, and which the worst cannot dis- 
miss ; that the time is fast approaching to both of 
them, when, if they have gained the favour of God, 
it matters little what else they have lost, but if 
they have lost his favour, it matters little what else 
they have gained. The second argument in sup- 
port of the ultimate superiority of virtue is this : 
We are so framed and constituted, that the most 
vicious cannot but pay a secret, though unwilling 
homage to virtue, inasmuch, as the worst men 
cannot bring themselves thoroughly to esteem a 
bad man, although he may be their dearest friend, 
nor can they thoroughly despise a good man, 
although he may be their bitterest enemy. From 
this inward esteem for virtue, which the noblest 
cherish, and which the basest cannot expel, it fol- 
lows that virtue is the only bond of union, on which 
we can thoroughly depend. — Even differences of 
opinion on minor points, cannot shake those com- 
binations which have virtue for their foundation, 
and truth for their end. Such friendships, like 
those of Luther and Melancthon, should they cease 
to be friendships of agreement, will continue to be 
friendships of alliance ; approaching each other 
by angular lines, when they no longer proceed to- 
9 



98 L A C O N . 

getlier by parallel, and meeting at last in one com- 
mon centre, the good of the cause in which they 
are embarked. 



Murmur at nothing ; if our ills are reparable, it 
is ungrateful ; if remediless it is vain. A Christian 
builds his fortitude on a better foundation than 
Stoicism ; he is pleased with every thing that 
happens, because he knows it could not happen 
unless it had fii ,t pleased God, and that which 
pleases him must be the best. He is assured that 
no new thing can befall him, and that he is in the 
hands of a father who will prove him with no 
affliction that resignation cannot conquer, or that 
death cannot cure. 



It is a mistake, that a lust for power is the mark 
of a great mind ; for even the weakest have been 
captivated by it ; and for minds of the highest 
order, it has no charms. They seek a nobler 
empire within their own breast ; and He that best 
knew what was in man, w r ould have no earthly 
crown, but one that was platted with thorns ! 
Cincinnatus and Washington were greater in their 
retirement, than Cesar and Napoleon at the summit 
of their ambition ; since it requires less magna- 
nimity to win the conquest, than to refuse the spoil. 
Lord Bacon has compared those who move in the 
higher spheres to those heavenly bodies in the 
firmament, which have much admiration, but little 
rest. And it is not necessary to invest a wise man 
with power, to convince him that it is a garment 
bedizened with gold, which dazzles the beholder 
by its splendour, but oppresses the wearer by its 
weight. Besides, those who aspire to govern 



LAC ON. 99 

others, rather than themselves, must descend to 
meanness which the truly noble cannot brook, nor 
will such stoop to kiss the earth, although it were 
like Brutus, for dominion !* 

Erasmus candidly informs us, that he had not 
courage enough for a martyr; and expresses his 
fears, that he should imitate Peter in case of per- 
secution : ' Non erat animus ob veritatem, capite, 
periclitari ; non omnes ad martyrium satis habent 
roboris ; vereor autem si quis incident tumultus, Pe- 
trum sim imitaturus. 7 f But if Erasmus had not 
the courage to face danger, he had the firmness to 
renounce honours and emoluments. He offered up 
a daily sacrifice, denial, rather than a single sacri- 
fice, death. He was a powerful agent in the cause 
of truth, for his writings acted upon the public 

* Gtuo minus gloriam petebat, eo magis adsequebatur.* 
When they invited Nunia, (says Dion,) to the sovereign- 
ty, he for some time refused it, and persisted long in his 
resolution not to accept the invitation. But, at the pressing 
instance of his brothers, and at last of his father, who 
would not suffer him to reject the offer of so great an hon- 
our, he consented to be a king. As soon as the Romans 
were informed of all this by the ambassadors, they con- 
ceived a great affection for him, before they saw him, es- 
teeming it as a sufficient argument of his wisdom, that 
while others valued royalty beyond measure, looking upon 
it as the source of happiness, he alone despised it as a thing 
of small value, and unworthy his attention, and when he 
approached the city, met him upon the road, and with great 
applause, salutations, and other honours, conducted him 
into Rome. — Dio. H., B. II. 

t I had not courage to hazard my life for the truth ; all have 
not strength enough for martyrdom ; I fear if any tumult had 
arisen, I should have imitated Peter. — Pub. 

TUe lass he sought for glory, the more surely he obtained it.— Pug 



100 L A C O N 

mind as alteratives upon the body, and gradually 
prepared men to undergo the effects of the more 
violent cathartics of Luther ; hence it was not un- 
common to say, that Luther hatched the egg, but 
that Erasmus had laid it. Had Erasmus been 
brought to the stake, and recanted in that situation, 
I question whether he would have found a better 
salvo for his conscience, than that of Mustapha, a 
Greek Christian of Constantinople. This man 
was much respected by the Turks ; but a curiosity 
he could not resist, induced him to run the hazard 
of being present at some of the esoteric ceremonies 
of the Moslem faith, to see which, is to incur the 
penalty of death, unless the infidel should atone for 
the offence by embracing the faith of Mahomet. 
Mustapha chose the latter alternative, and thus 
saved his life. As he was known to be a man of 
strict integrity, he did not escape the remonstran- 
ces of some of his former friends, to whom he 
made this excuse for his apostacy : ' I thought it 
better to trust a merciful God with my soul, than 
those wretches with my body. 9 



He that openly tells his friends, all that he thinks 
of them, must expect that they will secretly tell 
his enemies, much that they do not think of him. 

The greatest friend of Truth is Time, her great- 
est enemy is Prejudice, and her constant compan- 
ion is Humility. 

Did universal charity prevail, earth would be a 
heaven, and hell a fable. 



LACON. 101 

How small a portion of our life it is, that we 
really enjoy. In youth, we are looking forward to 
things that are to come ; in old age, we are look- 
ing backwards to things that are gone past; in 
manhood, although we appear indeed to be more 
occupied in things that are present, yet even that 
is too often absorbed in vague determinations to be 
vastly happy on some future day, when we have 
time. 



In all governments, there must of necessity be 
both the law and the sword ; laws without arms 
would give us not liberty, but licentiousness ; and 
arms without laws, would produce not subjection 
but slavery. The law, therefore, should be unto 
the sword, what the handle is to the hatchet ; it 
should direct the stroke, and temper the force. 



{ And pride, vouchsafed to all, a common friend.' 

The poet who wrote this line, evinced a pro- 
found knowledge of human nature. It has been 
well remarked, that it is on this principle that the 
pangs felt by the jealous are the most intolerable, 
because they are wounds inflicted on them through 
their very shield, through that pride which is our 
most common support even in our bitterest misfor- 
tunes. This pride, which is as necessary an evil 
in morals, as friction in mechanics, induces men to 
reiterate their complaints of their own deficien- 
cies, in every conceivable gift, except in that article 
alone where such complaints would neither be 
irrational nor groundless, namely, a deficiency in 
understanding. Here it is, that self-conceit would 
0* 



102 L A C O N . 

conceal the disorder, and submit to the consequen- 
ces, rather than permit the cure ; and Solomon is 
the only example on record, of one who made wis- 
dom the first and the last object of his desires, and 
left the rest to heaven. Philosophers have widely 
differed as to the seat of the soul, and St. Paul has 
told us, that out of the heart proceed murmurings ; 
but there can be no doubt that the seat of perfect 
contentment is in the head ; for every individual is 
thoroughly satisfied with his own proportion of 
brains. Socrates was so well aware of this, that 
he would not start as a teacher of truth, but as an 
inquirer after it. As a teacher, he would have had 
many disputers, but no disciples : he therefore 
adopted the humbler mode of investigation, and 
instilled his knowledge into others, under the mask 
of seeking information from them. 



If you have performed an act of great and dis- 
interested virtue, conceal it ; if you publish it, you 
will neither be believed here, nor rewarded here- 
after. 



Physical courage which despises all danger, 
will make a man brave in one way, and moral cou- 
rage, which despises all opinion, will make a man 
brave in another. The former would seem most 
necessary for the camp, the latter for the council ; 
but to constitute a great man, both are necessary. 
Napoleon accused Murat of a want of the one 
and he himself has not been wholly unsuspected of 
a want of the other. 



LAC ON. 103 

There are two things that bestow consequence ; 
great possessions or great debts.* Julius Cesar 
consented to be millions of sesterces worse than 
nothing, in order to be every thing ; he borrowed 
large sums of his officers, to quell seditions in his 
troops, who had mutinied for want of pay, and thus 
forced his partisans to anticipate their own success 
only through that of their commander. 

Those who are prejudiced, or enthusiastic, live 
and move, and think and act. in an atmosphere of 
their own conformation. The delusion so produced 
is sometimes deplorable, sometimes ridiculous, al- 
ways remediless. No events are too great, or too 
little, to be construed by such persons into peculiar 
or providential corroboratives or consequences of 
their own morbid hallucinations. An old maiden 
lady, who was a most determined espouser of the 
cause of the Pretender, happened to be possessed 
of a beautiful canary bird, whose vocal powers 
were the annoyance of one half of the neighbour 
hood, and the admiration of the other. Lord Pe- 
terborough was very solicitous to procure this bird, 
as a present to a favourite female, who had set her 
heart on being mistress of this little musical won- 
der. Neither his lordship's entreaties nor his 
bribes could prevail ; but so able a negotiator was 
not easily foiled. He took an opportunity of 
changing the bird, and of substituting another in 
its cage during some lucky moment, when its vigi- 

* The above remark is applicable to states, no less than 
to individuals. A public debt is a kind of anchor in the 
storm ; but if the anchor be too heavy for the vessel, she 
will be sunk by that very weight which was intended for 
iier preservation. — Sapienta, verbum sat, 



101 LA CON. 

lant protectress was off her guard • The change- 
ling was precisely like the original, except in that 
particular respect which alone constituted its value ; 
it was ci perfect mute, and had more taste for seeds 
than for songs. Immediately after this manoeuvre, 
that battle which utterly ruined the hopes of the 
Pretender, took place. A decent interval had 
elapsed, when his lordship summoned resolution 
to call again on the old lady ; in order to smother 
all suspicion of the trick he had played upon her, 
he was about to afTcct. great anxiety for the pos- 
session of the bird ; she saved him all trouble on 
that score, by anticipating as she thought his 
errand, exclaiming, ■ Oho, my lord, then you are 
come again, I presume, to coax me out of my dear 
little idol ; but it is all in vain ; he is now dearer to 
me than ever; I would not part with him for his 
cage full of gold. Would you believe it, my lord ! 
From the moment that his gracious sovereign was 
defeated, the sweet little fellow has not uttered a 
single note ! ! /' — Mr. Lackington, the great book- 
seller, when young, was locked up in order to pre- 
vent his attendance at a methodist meeting in 
Taunton. He informs us, that in a fit of supersti- 
tion, he opened the Bible for directions what to do. 
The very first words he hit upon were these : ' He 
has given his angels charge over thee, lest at any ti?ne 
thou dash thy foot against a stone? ' This,' says he, 
* was quite enough for me ; so without a moment's 
hesitation, I ran up two pair of stairs to my own 
room, and out of the window I leaped, to the great 
terror of m) poor mistress.' It appears that he en- 
countered more angles in his fall than angels, as 
he was most intolerably bruised, and being quite 
unable to rise, was carried back, and put to bed 



LACON. 105 

for a fortnight. l I was ignorant enough,' says he, 
1 to think that the Lord had not used me very well on 
this occasion ;' and it is most likely that he did not 
put so high a trust in such presages for the future. 

That writer who aspires to immortality, should 
imitate the sculptor, if he would make the labours 
of the pen as durable as those of the chisel. Like 
the sculptor, he should arrive at ultimate perfection, 
not by what he adds, but by what he takes away ; 
otherwise all his energies may be hidden in the su- 
perabundant mass of his matter, as the finished 
form of an Apollo, in the unworked solidity of the 
block. A friend called on Michael Angelo, who 
was finishing a statue ; some time afterwards he 
called again : the sculptor was still at his work ; 
his friend looking at the figure, exclaimed, ' Have 
you been idle since I saw you last V ' By no 
means,' replied the sculptor ; ' I have retouched 
this part and polished that ; I have softened this 
feature and brought out this muscle ; I have given 
more expression to this lip, and more energy to 
this limb.' ' Well, well,' said his friend, ' all these 
are trifles.' ' It may be so,' replied Angelo ; ' but 
recollect that trifles make perfection, and that per- 
fection is no trifle ' 

If it be true, that men of strong imaginations are 
usually dogmatists, and I am inclined to think it is 
so, it ought to follow that men of weak imagina- 
tions are the reverse : in which case we should 
have some compensation for stupidity. But it un 
fortunately happens that no dogmatist is more ob- 
stinate, or less open to conviction, than a fool , 
und the only difference between the tvo would 



106 L A C O If . 

seem to be this, the former is determined to force 
his knowledge upon others ; the latter is equally 
determined that others shall not force their know- 
ledge upon him. 

The good make a better bargain, and the bad a 
worse, than is usually supposed ; for the rewards 
of the one, and the punishments of the other, not 
unfrequently begin on this side of the grave ; vice 
has more martyrs than virtue ; and it often happens 
that men suffer more to be lost than to be saved. 
But admitting that the vicious may happen to es- 
cape the tortures of the body, which are so com- 
monly the wages of excess and of sin ; yet in that 
calm and constant sunshine of the soul which illu- 
minates the breast of the good man, vice can have 
no competition with virtue. ' Our thoughts,' says 
an eloquent divine, 'like the waters of the sea, 
when exhaled towards heaven, will lose all their 
bitterness and saltness, and sweeten into an amia- 
ble humanity, until they descend in gentle showers 
of love and kindness upon our fellow-men.' 

There are too many who reverse both the prin- 
ciples and the practice of the apostle ! they become 
all things to all men, not to serve others, but them- 
selves ; and they try all things, only to hold fast 
that which is bad. 

There are only two things m which the false 
professors of all religions have agreed ; to perse- 
cute all other sects, and to plunder their own. 

There is one passage in the Scriptures to which 
all the potentates of Europe jeem to have given 
their unanimous assent and approbation, and to have 



LAUON. 107 

studied so thoroughly as to have it quite at their 
fingers ends. ' There went out a decree in the days 
of Claudius Cesar > that all the world should be taxed? 



It often happens in public assemblies, that two 
measures are proposed, opposite in their tendency, 
but equal in the influence by which they are sup- 
ported, and also in the balance of good an J evil 
which may be fairly stated of either. In such a 
dilemma, it is not unusual, for the sake of unanim- 
ity, to adopt some half measure, which, as it has 
been emasculated of its energy to please the mode- 
rate, will often possess the good of neither mea- 
sure, but the evil of both. Of this kind was the 
suspensive veto voted to the monarch by the national 
assembly of France. It made the king an object 
of positive jealousy, while it gave him only nega- 
tive power, and rendered him unpopular, without 
the means of doing harm, and responsible without 
the privilege of doing good. And as half measures 
are so pregnant with danger, so the half talent by 
which they are often dictated, may be equally pre- 
judicial. There are circumstances of peculiar dif- 
ficulty and danger, where a mediocrity of talent is 
the most fatal quantum that a man can possibly 
possess. Had Charles the First, and Louis the 
Sixteenth, been more wise, or more weak, more 
firm, or more yielding, in either case they had 
both of them saved their heads. 



Imperial Rome governed the bodies of men, but 
did not extend her empire further. Papal Rome 
improved upon imperial ; she made the tiara stron- 
ger than the diadem ; pontiffs more powerful than 
praetors ; aad the crosier more victorious than the 



108 LACOS. 

sword. She devised a system so complete in aD 
its parts, for the subjugation both of body and of 
mind, that, like Archimedes, she asked but one 
thing, and that Luther denied her ; a fulcrum of 
ignorance on which to rest that lever by which sho 
could have balanced the world. 



In former times patriots prided themselves on 
two things ; their own poverty, and the riches of 
the state. But poor as these men were, there were 
kings not rich enough to purchase them, nor pow- 
erful enough to intimidate them. In modern times 
it would be easier to find a patriot rich enough to 
buy a king, than a king not rich enough to buy a 
patriot. Valerius Maximus informs us, that iElius 
Pectus tore to pieces with his own teeth, a wood 
pecker, because the augur, being consulted, had 
replied that if the bird lived, the house of iElius 
would flourish, but that if it died, the prosperity of 
the state would prevail. Modern patriots have dis- 
covered, that a roasted woodcock is better than a 
raw woodpecker. 

As the man of pleasure by a vain attempt to be 
more happy than any man can be, is often more 
miserable than most men are, so the skeptic, in a 
vain attempt to be wise, beyond what is permitted 
to man, plunges into a darkness more deplorable 
and a blindness more incurable than that of the 
common herd, whom he despises and would fain 
instruct. For the more precious the gift, the more 
pernicious the abuse of it, as the most powerful 
medicines are the most dangerous, if misapplied, 
and no error is so remediless as that which arises, 
not from the exclusion of wisdom, but from its per- 



LACON, 109 

version. The skeptic, when he plunges into the 
depths of infidelity, like the miser who leaps from 
the shipwreck, will find that the treasures which he 
bears about him, will only sink him deeper in the 

abyss. 

It has been said, that men carry on a kind of 
coasting trade with religion. In the voyage of life, 
they profess to be in search of heaven, but take 
care not to venture so far in their approximations to 
it, as entirely to lose sight of the earth ; and should 
their frail vessel be in danger of shipwreck, they 
will gladly throw their darling vices overboard, as 
other mariners their treasures, only to fish them up 
again when the storm is over. To steer a course 
that shall secure both worlds, is still, I fear, a de- 
sideratum in ethics, a thing unattained as yet, either 
by the divine or the philosopher, for the track is 
discoverable only by the shipwrecks that have 
been made in the attempt. John Wesley quaintly 
observed, that the road to heaven was a narrow path, 
not intended for wheels, and that to ride in a coach 
here, and to go to heaven hereafter, was a happi- 
ness too much for man. # 

The only kind office performed for us by our 
friends, of which we never complain, is our funeral ; 
and the only thing which we are sure to want, 
happens to be the only thing which we never pur- 
chase — our coffin. 



With respect to the goods of this world, it 
might be said, that parsons are preaching for them 

* Yet honest John rode in his own coach before ha died, 
10 



110 L A CO N. 

— lawyers are pleading for them — physicians are 
prescribing for them — authors are writing for them 
— soldiers are fighting for them — but, that true 
philosophers alone are enjoying them. 



There is more jealousy between rival wits, 
than rival beauties, for vanity has no sex. But, 
in both cases, there must be pretensions, or 
there will be no jealousy. Elizabeth might have 
been merciful, had Mary neither been beautiful, 
nor a queen ; and it is only when we ourselves 
have been admired by some, that we begin tho- 
roughly to envy those who are admired by all. 
But the basis of this passion, must be the possi- 
bility of competition; for the rich are more en- 
vied by those who have a little, than by those 
who have nothing ; and no monarch ever heard 
with indifference, that other monarchs were ex- 
tending their dominions, except Theodore of Cor- 
sica — who had none ! 



Those missionaries who embark for India, like 
some other reformers, begin at the wrong end. 
They ought first to convert to practical Christianity, 
those of their own countrymen who have crossed 
the Pacific, on a very different mission, to acquire 
money by every kind of rapine abroad, in order to 
squander it in every kind of revelry at home. 
Example is more powerful than precept, and the 
poor Hindoo is not slow in discovering how very 
unlike, the Christians he sees, are to that Chris- 
tianity of which he hears : — 



LAC ON, 111 

• Segnius irritant animos demissa per aures, 
Quam quae stmt oculis subjecta fidelibus?* 

The misfortune therefore is, that he understands 
the conduct of his master, much better than the 
creed of his missionary, and has a clearer know- 
ledge of the depravity of the disciple^ than of the 
preachings of the preceptor. These observations 
are strengthened by a remark of Dr. Buchanan, 
founded on his own experience. c Conversion,' 
says he, ' goes on more prosperously in Tanjore 
and other provinces, where there are no Europeans, 
than in Tranquebar, where they are numerous : for 
we find,' he adds, ' that European example in the 
large towns, is the bane of Christian instruction.' 



When you have nothing to say, say nothing ; a 
weak defence strengthens your opponent, and si- 
lence is less injurious than a bad reply. 



We know the effects of many things, but the 
causes of few ; experience, therefore, is a surer 
guide than imagination, and inquiry than conjec- 
ture. But those physical difficulties which you 
cannot account for, be very slow to arraign, for he 
that would be wiser than nature, would be wiser 
than God. 



When punishments fall upon a villain from some 
unknown quarter, he begins to consider within him- 
self what hand may have inflicted them. He has 
injured many, this he knows, and judging from his 
own heart, he concludes that he is the most likely 

* Truths which we hear will less affect us, than those which 
we see.— Pub. 



IS LACON, 

to have revenged himself, who has had the most 
power to do so. This conclusion, however, is 
often a most erroneous one, although it has proved 
the frequent source of fatal mischiefs, which 
have only fallen the heavier, from having had 
nothing to support them. Forgiveness, that no- 
blest of all self-denial, is a virtue, which he alone 
that can practise in himself, can willingly believe 
in another. 



Some men possess means that are great, but 
fritter them away, in the execution of conceptions 
that are little ; and there are others who can 
form great conceptions, but who attempt to carry 
them into execution with little means. These 
two descriptions of men might succeed if united, 
but as they are usually kept asunder by jealousy, 
both fail. It is a rare thing to find a combi- 
nation of great means, and of great conceptions 
in one mind. The Duke of Bridgewater was a 
splendid example of this union, and all his de- 
signs were so profoundly planned, that it is de- 
lightful to observe how eifectually his vast means 
supported his measures, at one time, and how 
gratefully his measures repaidhis means, at another. 
On the blameless and the bloodless basis of public 
utility, he founded his own individual aggrandize- 
ment ; and his triumphal arches are those by which 
he subdued the earth, only to increase the comforts 
of those who possess it. I have heard my father 
say, that the duke was not considered a clever lad 
at Eton, which only strengthens an observation 
that I have often made, that vivacity, in youth, is 
often mistaken for genius, and solidity for d illness 



LAC ON. 113 

The farther we advance in knowledge, the more 
simplicity shall we discover in those primary rules 
that regulate all the apparently endless, complica- 
ted, and multiform operations of the Godhead. To 
Him, indeed, all time is but a moment, and all 
space but a point, and he fills both, but is bounded 
by neither. As merciful in his restrictions as in 
his bounties, he sees at one glance the whole rela- 
tions of things, and has prescribed unto himself 
one eternal and immutable principle of action, that 
of producing the highest ultimate happiness, by 
the best possible means. But he is as great in 
minuteness, as in magnitude, since, even the legs 
of a fly have been fitted up and furnished with all 
the powers and all the properties of an air-pump, 
and this has been done by the self-same hand that 
created the suns of other systems, and placed them 
at so immense a distance from the earth, that light 
itself seems to lag on so immeasurable a journey, 
occupying many millions of years in arriving from 
those bodies unto us. In proof of the observation 
with which I set out, modern discoveries in chym- 
istry have so simplified the laws by which the 
Deity acts in his great laboratory of nature, that 
Sir Humphrey Davy has felt himself authorized to 
affirm, that a very few elementary bodies indeed, 
and which may themselves be only different forms 
of some one and the same primary material, con- 
stitute the sum total of our tangible universe of 
things. And as the grand harmony of the celes- 
tial bodies may be explained by the simple princi- 
ples of gravity and impulse, so also in that more 
wonderful and complicated microcosm, the heart 
of man, all the phenomena of morals are perhaps 
10* 



114 LAC ON. 

resolvable into one single principle — the pursuit of 
apparent good; for although customs universally 
vary, yet man, in all climates and countries, is es- 
sentially the same. Hence, the old position of the 
Pyrrhonists, that the more we study, the less we 
know, is true, but not in the sense in which it has 
been usually received. It may be true that we 
know less, but that less is of the highest value ; 
first, from its being a condensation of all that is 
certain ; secondly, from its being a rejection of all 
that is doubtful ; and such a treasure, like the pages 
of the Sybil, increases in value, even by its dimi- 
nution. Knowledge is twofold, and consists not 
only in an affirmation of what is true, but in the 
negation of that which is false. It requires more 
magnanimity to give up what is wrong, than to 
maintain that which is right : for our pride is 
wounded by the one effort, and flattered by the 
other. The highest knowledge can be nothing 
more than the shortest and clearest road to truth ; 
all the rest is pretension, not performance, mere 
verbiage and grandiloquence, from which we can 
learn nothing, but that it is the external sign of an 
internal deficiency. To revert to our former affirm- 
ation of the simplicity of those rules that regulate 
the universe, we might farther add, that any machine 
would be considered to be most ingenious, if it con- 
tained within itself principles for correcting its own 
imperfections. Now, a few simple but resistless 
laws, have effected all this so fully for the world 
we live in, that it contains within itself the seeds 
of its own eternity. An Alexander could not add 
one atom to it, or a Napoleon take one away. A 
period, indeed, has been assigned unto it by reve- 



LAC ON. 115 

lation, otherwise it would be far less difficult to 
conceive of its eternal continuance, than of its 
final cessation. 



As the dimensions of the tree are not always 
regulated by the size of the seed, so the conse- 
quences of things are not always proportionate to 
the apparent magnitude of those events that have 
produced them. Thus, the American Revolution, 
from which little was expected, produced much ; 
but the French revolution, from which much was 
expected, produced little.* And in ancient times, 
so grovelling a passion as the lust of a Tarquin, 
could give freedom to Rome; that freedom, to 
whose shrine a Cesar was afterwards sacrificed in 
vain, as a victim, and a Cato as a martyr ; that free- 
dom, which fell, unestablished either by the immo- 
lation of the one, or the magnanimity of the other. 



Where true religion has prevented one crime, 
false religions have afforded a pretext for a thou- 
sand. 

* I am not so hardy as to affirm, that the French revolu- 
tion produced little, in the absolute sense of the word. I 
mean that it produced little if compared with the expecta- 
tions of mankind, and the probabilities that its first de- 
velopment afforded of its final establishment. The Papal 
power, the dynasty of the Bourbons, the freedom of the 
press, and purity ©{'representation, are resolving themselves 
very much into the c statu quo ante helium.''* It is far from 
improbable, that the results of a ' reformation 9 now going 
on in Spain, with an aspect far less assuming than the late 
revolution in France, will be more beneficial both to the 
present and future times than that gigantic event, which 
destroyed so much, b\vt which repaired so little, and which 
beganin civil anarchy, but ended in military despotism. 

• The stats before the wir, 



116 LA CON. 

We ask advice, but we mean approbation. 



Be very slow to believe that you are wiser than 
all others ; it is a fatal but common error. Where 
one has been saved by a true estimation of another's 
weakness, thousands have been destroyed by a 
false appreciation of their own strength. Napoleon 
could calculate the former, well, but to his miscal- 
culations of the latter, he may ascribe his present 
degradation. 



In the present enlightened state of society, it is 
impossible for mankind to be thoroughly vicious ; 
for wisdom and virtue are very often convertible 
terms, and they invariably assist and strengthen 
each other. A society composed of none but the 
wicked, could not exist ; it contains within itself 
the seeds of its own destruction, and without a 
flood, would be swept away from the earth by the 
deluge of its own iniquity. The moral cement of 
all society, is virtue ; it unites and preserves, while 
vice, separates and destroys. The good may well 
be termed the salt of the earth. For where there 
is no integrity, there can be no confidence ; and 
where there is no confidence, there can be no una- 
nimity. The story of the three German robbers 
is applicable to our present purpose, from the preg- 
nant brevity of its moral. Having acquired by 
various atrocities, what amounted to a very valu- 
able booty, they agreed to divide the spoil, and to 
retire from so dangerous a vocation. When the 
day which they had appointed for this purpose, 
arrived, one of them was despatched to a neigh - 
bouring town, to purchase provisions for their last 
carousal. The other two secretly agreed to mur- 



LAC ON. 117 

der him on his return, that they might come in for 
one half of the plunder, instead of a third. They 
did so. But the murdered man was a closer calcu- 
later even than his assassins, for he had previously 
poisoned a part of the provisions, that he might 
appropriate unto himself the whole of the spoil. 
This precious triumvirate were found dead to- 
gether — a signal instance that nothing is so blind 
and suicidal, as the selfishness of vice. 

When the million applaud you, seriously ask 
yourself what harm you have done ; when they 
censure you, what good ! 

Agar said, i Give me neither poverty nor riches ;' 
and this will ever be the prayer of the wise. Our 
incomes should be like our shoes, if too small, they 
will gall and pinch us, but if too large, they will 
cause us to stumble and to trip. Wealth, after all, 
is a relative thing, since he that has little, and 
wants less, is richer than he that has much, but 
wants more True contentment depends not upon 
what we have .; a tub was large enough for Dioge- 
nes, but a world was too little for Alexander. 



We should act with as much energy as those 
who expect every thing from themselves ; — and we 
should pray with as much earnestness as those 
who expect every thing from God. 



The ignorant have often given credit to the 
wise, for powers that are permitted to none, merely 
because the wise have made a proper use of those 
powers that are permitted to all. The little Ara- 
bian tale of the Dervise, shall be the comment of 



118 L A ON. 

this proposition. A Dervise was journeying alone 
in the desert, when two merchants suddenly met 
him. * You have lost a camel,' said he to the mer- 
chants. 4 Indeed we have,' they replied. 'Was he 
not blind in his right eye, and lame in his left leg V 
said the Dervise. ' He w r as,' replied the merchants. 
' Had he not lost a front tooth?' said the Dervise. 
1 He had/ rejoined the merchants. ' And was he not 
loaded with honey on one side, and wheat on the 
other V ' Most certainly he was/ they replied, ' and 
as you have seen him so lately, and marked him so 
particularly, you can, in all probability conduct us 
unto him.' * My friends,' said the Dervise, ' I have 
never seen your camel, nor ever heard of him but 
from you/ ' A pretty story, truly,' said the mer- 
chants, \ but where are the jewels which formed a 
part of his cargo V i I have neither seen your 
camel, nor your jewels,' repeated the Dervise. On 
this they seized his person, and forthwith hurried him 
before the Cadi, where on the strictest search, nothing 
could be found upon him, nor could any evidence 
whatever be adduced to convict him, either of false- 
hood or of theft. They were then about to proceed 
against him as a sorcerer, when the Dervise, with 
great calmness, thus addressed the court : — ' I have 
been much amused with your surprise, and own 
that there has been some ground for your suspi- 
cions ; but I have lived long and alone ; and I can 
find ample scope for observation even in a desert. 
I knew that I had crossed the track of a camel 
that had strayed from its owner, because I saw no 
mark of any human footstep on the same route ; I 
knew that the animal was blind in one eye, because 
it had cropped the herbage only on one side of its 
path ; and I perceived that it was lame in one leg» 



L A C U X. 

from the faint impression which that particular foot 
had produced upon the sand ; I concluded that the 
animal had lost one tooth, because, wherever it had 
grazed, a small tuft of herbage was left uninjured, 
in the centre of its bite. As to that whicli formed 
the burden of the beast, the busy ants informed 
me that it was corn on the one side, and the clus- 
tering flies, that it was honey on the other.' 



Some philosophers would give a sex to revenge, 
and appropriate it almost exclusively to the female 
mind. But, like most other vices, it is of both 
genders ; yet, because wounded vanity, or slighted 
love, are the two most powerful excitements to 
revenge, it is thought, perhaps, to rage with more 
violence in the female heart. As the causes of this 
passion are not confined to the women, so neither 
are its effects. History can produce many Syllas, 
to one Fulvia or Christina. The fact, perhaps, is, 
that the human heart, in both sexes, will more 
readily pardon injuries than insults, particularly if 
they appear to arise, not from any wish in the 
offender to degrade us. but to aggrandize himself. 
Margaret Lambrun assumed a man's habit, and 
came to England from the other side of the 
Tweed, determined to assassinate Queen Elizabeth. 
She was urged to this from the double malice of 
revenge, excited by the loss of her mistress, Queen 
Mary, and that of her own husband who died from 
grief, at the death of his queen. In attempting to 
get close to Elizabeth, she dropped one of her 
pistols ; and on being seized and brought before 
the queen, she boldly avowed her motives, and 
added, that she found herself necessitated, by 



120 L A C O N . 

experience to prove the truth of that maxim, that 
neither force nor reason can hinder a woman from 
revenge, when she is impelled by love. The 
queen set an example, that few kings would have 
followed, for she magnanimously forgave the crim- 
inal ; and thus took the noblest mode of convincing 
her that there were some injuries that even a wo- 
man could forgive. 



All the poets are indebted more or less to those 
who have gone before them ; even Homer's origi- 
nality has been questioned, and Yirgil owes almost 
as much to Theocritus, in his Pastorals, as to 
Homer, in his Heroics ; if our own countryman, 
Milton, has soared above both Homer and Virgil, 
it is because he has stolen some feathers from their 
wings. Shakspeare stands alone. His want ot 
erudition was a most happy and productive igno- 
rance ; it forced him back upon his own resources 
which were exhaustless. If his literary qualifica- 
tions made it impossible for him to borrow from 
the ancients, he was more than repaid by the pow- 
ers of his invention, which made borrowing unne- 
cessary. In all the ebbings and the flowings of 
his genius, in his storms, no less than in his calms, 
he is as completely separated from all other poets, 
as the Caspian from all other seas. He abounds 
with so many axioms applicable to all the circum- 
stances, situations, and varieties of life, that they 
are no longer the property of the poet, but of the 
world ; all apply, but none dare appropriate them ; 
and, like anchors, they are secure from thieves, by 
reason of their weight. 



LA CON. 121 

That nations sympathize with their monarch's 
glory, that they are improved by his virtues, and 
that the tone of morals rises high, when he that 
leads the band is perfect, are truths admitted with 
exultation, and felt with honest pride. That a 
nation is equally degraded by a monarch's profli- 
gacy, that it is made, in some sort, contemptible by 
his meanness, and immoral by his depravation, are 
positions less flattering, but equally important and 
true. * Plus exemplo quam peccato nocent, quippe 
quod multi imitatores principum existunt?* The 
example, therefore, of a sovereign, derives its pow- 
erful influence from that pride inherent in the con- 
stitution of our nature, which dictates to all, not to 
copy their inferiors, but which at the same time, 
causes imitation to descend. A prince, therefore, 
can no more be obscured by vices, without demo- 
ralizing his people, than the sun can be eclipsed 
without darkening the land. In proof of these pro- 
positions, we might affirm, that there have been 
some instances w 7 here a sovereign has reformed a 
court,t but not a single instance where a court has 
reformed a sovereign. When Louis the Four- 
teenth, in his old age, quitted his battles for beads, 
and his mistress for missals, his courtiers aped 

* They do more harm by their example than by their 
crimes, for many are the imitators of princes. — Pub. 

t Englishmen need not go far, either in time, or in dis- 
tance, for a splendid proof of the truth of this proposition. 
The reign of George the Third is an arena that will both 
demand and deserve the utmost talents of its historian, 
however high they may be. It is the most eventful reign in 
the memory of man. A gentlemanly prince in public, and 
a princely gentleman in private, he set an example of lib- 
erality in sentiment, of integrity in principle, and of purity 
in life, which may have been imitated oy some of his sub- 
jects, but which have been surpassed bv none. 
11 



m L A c o ft 

their sovereign as strenuously in his devotions, as 
they had before in his debaucheries, and took the 
sacrament twice in the day ! 



The gamester, if he die a martyr to his profes- 
sion, is doubly ruined. He adds his soul to every 
other loss, and by the act of suicide, renounces 
earth to forfeit heaven. 



Two things are necessary to a modern martyr, 
— some to pity, and some to persecute, some to 
regret, and some to roast him. If martyrdom is 
now on the decline, it is not because martyrs are 
less zealous, but because martyr-mongers are more 
wise. The light of intellect has put out the fire 
of persecution, as other fires are observed to smoul- 
der before the light of the sun. 



The wise man has his follies, no less than the 
fool ; but it has been said, that herein lies the dif- 
ference — the follies of the fool are known to the 
world, but are hidden from himself; the follies of 
the wise are known to himself, but hidden from the 
world. A harmless hilarity, and a buoyant cheer- 
fulness are not infrequent concomitants of genius ; 
and we are never more deceived, than when we 
mistake gravity for greatness, solemnity for sci- 
ence, and pomposity for erudition. 



The true poet is always great, if compared with 
others ; not always if compared with himself. 



If men praise your efforts, suspect their judg- 
ment ; if they censure them, your own. 



LAUO N. 123 

Philosophy manages a most important firm, not 
only with a capital of her own, but also with a still 
larger one that she has borrowed ; but she repays 
with a most liberal interest, and in a mode that ulti- 
mately enriches, not only others, but herself. The 
philosopher, is neither a chymist, a smith, a mer- 
chant, or a manufacturer ; but he both teaches and 
is taught by all of them ; and his prayer is, that 
the intellectual light may be as general as the so- 
lar, and uncontrolled. As he is as much delighted 
to imbibe knowledge as to impart it, he watches 
the rudest operations of that experience, which 
may be both old and uninformed, right, though un- 
able to say why, or wrong, without knowing the 
wherefore. The philosopher, therefore, strength- 
ens that which was mere practice, by disclosing 
the principle; he establishes customs that were 
right, by superadding the foundation of reason, and 
overthrown those that were erroneous, by taking 
that foundation away. 



Persecutors on the score of religion, have, in 
general, been the foulest of hypocrites, and their 
burning zeal has too often been lighted up at the 
altar of worldly ambition. Suppose we admit that 
persecution may, in some solitary cases, have aris- 
en from motives that are pure ; the glory of God, 
and the salvation of men. Here again, the purity 
of the motive is most wofully eclipsed by the gross 
absurdity of the means. The persecutor must 
begin by breaking many fundamental laws of his 
master, in order to commence his operations in his 
favour; thus asserting, by deeds, if not by words, 
that the intrinsic excellence of the code of our 
Saviour, is insufficient for its own preservation 



124 LACO N . 

Thus it is, that even the sincerest persecutor 
defends the cause of his master. He shows his 
love of man, by breaking his cardinal laws; he 
then seeks to glorify a God of mercy, by worship- 
ping him as a Moloch who delights in human 
sacrifices ; and lastly, he shows his love of his 
neighbour, by roasting his body for the good of his 
soul. Can a darkness which is intellectual, be 
done away by a fire which is material 1 or is it 
absolutely necessary to make a fagot of a man's 
body in order to enlighten his mind. 



There is a paradox in pride — : it makes some 
men ridiculous, but prevents others from becom- 
ing so. 



Those who worship gold in a world so corrupt 
as this we live in, have at least one thing to plead 
in defence of their idolatry — the power of their 
idol. It is true, that like other idols, it can neither 
move, see, hear, feel, or understand ; but, unlike 
other idols, it has often communicated all these 
powers to those who had them not, and annihilated 
them in those who had. This idol can boast of 
two peculiarities ; it is worshipped in all climates, 
without a single temple, and by all classes, with- 
out a single hypocrite. 



If kings would only determine not to extend 
their dominions, until they had filled them with 
happiness, they would find the smallest territories 
too large, but the longest life too short, for the full 
accomplishment of so grand and so noble an am- 
bition. 



LACON. 125 

It is not every man that can afford to wear a 
shabby coat ; and worldly wisdom dictates to her 
disciples, the propriety of dressing somewhat be- 
yond their means, but of living within them ; for 
every one sees how we dress, but none see how 
we live, except we choose to let them. The truly 
great are by universal suffrage exempted from 
these trammels, and may live or dress as they 
please. 



Sleep, the type of death, is also like that which 
it typifies, restricted to the earth. It flies from 
hell, and is excluded from heaven. 

Emulation has been termed a spur to virtue, and 
assumes to be a spur of gold. But it is a spur 
composed of baser materials, and if tried in the 
furnace, will be found to want that fixedness, which 
is the characteristic of gold. He that pursues 
virtue, only to surpass others, is not far from wish- 
ing others less forward than himself; and he that 
rejoices too much at his own perfection, will be 
too little grieved at the defects of other men. We 
might also insist upon this, that true virtue, though 
the most humble of all things, is the most progres- 
sive ; it must persevere to the end. As Alexander 
scorned the Olympic games, because there were 
no kings to contend with, so he that starts only to 
outstrip others, will suspend his exertions when 
that end is attained ; and self-love will in many 
cases, incline him to stoop for the prize, even be- 
fore he has obtained the victory. The views of 
the Christian are more extensive, and more endur- 
ing; his ambition is, not to conquer others, but 
11* 



126 L A C N . 

himself, and he unbuckles his armour, only for his 
shroud. 



In the pursuit of knowledge, follow it wherever 
it is to be found ; like fern, it is the produce of all 
climates, and like coin, its circulation is not re- 
stricted to any particular class. We are ignorant 
in youth, from idleness, and we continue so in man- 
hood, from pride ; for pride is less ashamed of 
being ignorant, than of being instructed, and she 
looks too high to find that, which very often lies 
beneath her. Therefore condescend to men of 
low estate, and be for wisdom that which Alcibiades 
was for power. He that rings only one bell, will 
hear only one sound ; and he that lives only with 
one class, will see but one scene of the great 
drama of life. Mr. Locke was asked how he had 
contrived to accumulate a mine of knowledge so 
rich, yet so extensive and so deep. He replied, 
that he attributed what little he knew, to not having 
been ashamed to ask for information; and to the 
rule he had laid down, of conversing with ail de- 
scription of men, on those topics chiefly that 
formed their own peculiar professions or pursuits, 
I myself have heard a common blacksmith elo- 
quent, when welding of iron has been the theme ; 
what we know thoroughly, we can usually express 
clearly, since ideas will supply words, but words 
will not always supply ideas. Therefore when I 
meet with any that write obscurely, or converse 
confusedly, I am apt to suspect two things ; first, 
that such persons do not understand themselves ; 
and secondly, that they arc not worthy of being 
understood by others 



LACON. 127 

He that can enjoy the intimacy of the great, and 

on no occasion disgust them with familiarity, or 

disgrace himself by servility, proves that he is as 
perfect a gentleman by nature, as his companions 
are by rank. 

Royal favorites are often obliged to carry their 
complaisance further than they meant. They live 
for their master's pleasure, and they die for his 
convenience. 



The hate, which we all bear with the most. Chris 
tian patience, is the hate of those who envy us 



Imitation is the sincerest of flattery. 

There are two modes of establishing our repu- 
tation ; to be praised by honest men, and to be 
abused by rogues. It is best, however, to secure 
the former, because it will be invariably accompa- 
nied by the latter. His calumniation, is not only 
the greatest benefit a rogue can confer upon us, hut 
it is also the only service he willperform for nothing. 



As we ascend in society, like those who climb a 
mountain, we shall find that the line of perpetual 
congelation commences with the higher circles, and 
the nearer we approach to the grand luminary the 
court, the more frigidity and apathy shall we expe- 
rience. 



Sensible women have often been the dupes of 
designing men, in the following way : they have 
taken an opportunity of praising them to their own 
confidante, but with a solemn injunction to secrecy. 



123 JL A C O IV . 

The confidante, however, as they know, will infal- 
lably inform her principal, the first moment she sees 
her; and this is a mode of flattery which always 
succeeds. Even those females w 7 ho nauseate flat- 
tery in any other shape, will not reject it in this ; 
just as we can hear the light of the sun without 
pain when reflected by the moon. 



If you arc under obligation to many, it is pru- 
dent to postpone the recompensing of one, until it be 
in your power to remunerate all, otherwise you will 
make more enemies by what you give, than by what 
you withhold. 

There is no cruelty so inexorable and unrelent- 
ing, as that which proceeds from a bigoted and pre- 
sumptuous supposition of doing service to God. 
Under the influence of such hallucination, all com- 
mon modes of reasoning are perverted, and all 
general principles destroyed. — The victim of tka 
fanatical persecutor will find that the stronger the 
motives he can urge for mercy are, the weaker 
will be his chance of obtaining it, for the merit 
of his destruction will be supposed to rise in 
value, in proportion as it is effected at the expense 
of every feeling, both of justice and of humanity. 
Had the son of Philip the Second of Spain been 
condemned by the inquisition, his own father, in 
default of any other executioner, would have car- 
ried the fagots, and have set fire to the pile. And 
in the atrocious murder of Archbishop Sharp, it is 
well known that Balfour and his party did not meet 
together at Gilston Muir for the purpose of assas- 
sinating the archbishop, but to slay one Carmi- 
chael, a magistrate. These misguided men were 



LAC ON. 129 

actuated (to use their own words) ' by a strong out- 
letting of the spirit? shortly to be manifested by 
the outletting of innocent blood ; and one Smith, 
a weaver at the Strutherdike, an inspired man, had 
also encouraged them ' all to go forward, seeing 
that God's glory was the only motive that was moving 
them to offer themselves to act for Ids broken down 
work.'' These men not happening to find Carmi- 
chael, were on the point of dispersing, when a lad 
running up, suddenly informed them that the coach 
of Archbishop Sharp was then coming on, upon 
the road between Ceres and Blebo Hole. Thus, 
vCarrnichael escaped, but an archbishop was a 
sacrifice, caught in the thicket, more costly than 
the ram. ' "Truly? said they, ' this is of God, and 
it scemcth that God hath delivered him into our 
hands ; let us not draw back, but pursue him, for all 
looked upon it, considering the former circumstances, 
as a clear call from God to fall upon him.. 1 We 
may anticipate what tender mercies the Archbishop 
might count upon, from a gang of such enthusi- 
asts ; and the circumstances of a prelate murdered 
at the feet of his daughter, with the curious con- 
versation that accompanies this act, only proves 
that fanaticism is of the same malignant type and 
character, whether she be engendered in the clan, 
or the conclave, the kirk, or the cathedral. 



It has been said, that whatever is made with the 
intention of answering two purposes, will answer 
neither of them well. This is for the most part 
true, with respect to the inventions and productions 
pf man ; but the very reverse of this would seem 
lo obtain, in all the operations of the Godhead. In 
*he great laboratory of nature, many effects of the 



J30 L A G O ft 

most important and extensive utility are often made 
to proceed from some one primary cause ; neither 
do these effects, in any one instance, either clash 
or jar, or interfere with each other, hut each one is 
as perfect in its kind, as if the common source of 
its activity were adjusted and appropriated to the 
accomplishing of that single effect alone. An illus- 
tration or two will suffice, where the number of 
examples is so great, that the difficulty lies more in 
the selection than in the discovery. The atmo- 
sphere is formed for the respiration of numberless 
animals, which most important office it perfectly 
performs, being the very food of life. But. there 
are two other processes almost as important, which 
could not go on without, an atmosphere, seeing that 
it is essential to both of them — the dissemination 
of light by its powers of refraction and reflectory 
and of heat by its decomposition. The ocean is a 
fluid world, admirably calculated for the propaga- 
tion and continuation of those myriads of aquatic 
animals with which it abounds ; and thus, it enables 
the Creator to extend, both in depth and surface, 
the sphere of sensation, of life, and of enjoyment, 
from the poles even unto the line. But the ocean 
has other most important offices to fulfil ; it is per- 
haps more necessary to the earth, than the earth 
itself is to the ocean ; for while it appears to be the 
great receptacle of salt water, it becomes, through 
the joint medium of the sun and of the atmosphere, 
the principal reservoir and distributor of fresh. The 
sim himself was created as the grand emporium 
of light and heat to the system. He not. only 
warms and enlightens, but he also regulates and* 
controls, both the times, and the spaces, of the 
whole planetary world ; the lord of motion, no less 



LA COJC. 131 

than of light, he imposes a law on those erratic 
bodies, as invincible as it is invisible, which nev- 
ertheless allows the fullest scope to all their wan- 
derings, and subjects them to no restraint but that 
which is absolutely necessary for their preserva- 
tion. • 



When we consider that Julius Cesar, Pompey, 
Brutus, Cato, Atticus, Livy, Cicero, Horace, Virgil, 
Hortensius, Augustus, and Marcus Varro, were 
contemporaries, that they were, at the same time, 
enclosed within the walls of the same city, which 
might well be termed ' Roma virum genitrix ;'* and 
when we further reflect, that this bright constella- 
tion was attended also by another subordinate to it, 
made up of stars, indeed of lesser magnitude, but 
which would have shone with no small lustre in 
any other horizon, we no longer wonder that a cap- 
ital that could breed and educate such men, should 
aspire to the proud title of mistress of the world, 
and vaunt herself secure from all mortal wounds, 
save only those that might be inflicted in an evil 
hour by parricidal hands. The close observer 
of human nature, who takes nothing on trust, who, 
undazzled by the lustre, calmly inquires into the 
use, will not be contented with a bare examination 
of the causes that conspired to produce so marvel- 
lous a union of talent, but will further ask, how it 
happened, that men, whose examples have been so 
fertile of instruction to future ages, were so bar- 
ren of improvement and utility to their own. For 
it must be admitted that Rome was ' divided against 
herself,' split into faction, and torn to pieces by a 

* Rome, the mother of men. — Pub . 



132 L A C N . 

most bloody civil war, at the very moment she was 
in proud possession of all this profusion of talent, 
by which she was consumed, rather than comforted, 
and scorched, rather than enlightened". Perhaps 
the conclusion that is forced upon us by a review 
of this particular period of Roman history, is 
neither consolatory nor honourable to our nature ; 
it would seem, I fear, to be this, namely, that a 
state of civil freedom is absolutely necessary for 
the training up, educating, and finishing, of great 
and noble minds ; but that society has no guaran- 
tee, that minds so formed and finished, shall not 
asjpirt: to govern rather than to obey ; no security 
\hv* ihey shall not afreet a greatness, greater than 
the lawsr, r " I in affecting it, that they shall not ulti- 
mately destroy that, very freedom, to which alone 
they were indebted for their superiority. Such 
men too often begin by subjecting all things to 
their country, and finish by subjecting their coun- 
try unto themselves. If we examine the individual 
characters of those great names I have cited above 
we may perhaps affirm, that Horace, Virgil, Hor- 
tensius, Yarro, and Livy, were more occupied in 
writing what deserved to be read, than in doing any 
thing that deserved to be written. Atticus was a 
practical disciple of Epicurus, and too much con- 
cerned about the safety and health of his own 
person, to endanger it by attacking that of another; 
as to Cicero, though he was formed both for 
action and deliberation, yet none of the blood that 
was spilt in his day, can fairly be charged to him ; 
in fact, he had so much of the pliability of his 
friend Atticus about him, that he might have 
flourished even in the court of Augustus, a rival of 
.vlsecenas, had he himself been less eloquent, Octa 



L A C O N . 133 

vius more grateful, or Antony less vindictive. Four 
men remain, formed indeed, in ' all the prodigality 
of nature,' but composed of elements so opposite 
to each other, that their conjunction, like the clash 
of adverse comets, could not but convulse the 
world ; Cesar, Pompey, Brutus, and Cato. — Cesar 
could not brook a superior, nor Pompey an equal ; 
and. Brutus, although he did not aspire himself to 
rule, was determined that no one else should &o so. 
Cato, who might have done more to save his 
country, had he attempted less, disgusted his friends 
and exasperated his foes by a vain effort to realize 
the splendid fictions of Plato's republic, in the 
dregs of Romulus.: — Proud, without ambition, he 
was less beloved as the stern defender of liberty, 
than Cesar as the destroyer of it, who was ambi- 
tious without pride ;. a mistaken martyr in a noble 
cause, Cato was condemned to live in an era when 
the timas would not bear his integrity — nor his 
integrity the times. 

Th*»?e is this difference between those two tem- 
poral blessings, health and money : money is the 
most envied, but the least enjoyed, health is the 
most enjoyed, but the least envied ; and the supe- 
riority of the latter is still more obvious when we 
reflect that the poorest man would not part with 
health for money, but that the richest would gladly 
part with all their money for health. 

All governments ought to aspire to produce the 
highest happiness by the least objectionable means 
To produce good without some admixture of ill, is 
the prerogative of the Deity alone. In a state of 
nature, each individual would strive to preserve the 
12 



m LACON. 

whole of his liberty * but then he would be also 
liable to the encroachments of others, who would 
feel equally determined to preserve the whole of 
theirs. In a state of civilization each individ- 
ual voluntarily sacrifices a part of his liberty, to 
increase the general stock. But he sacrifices his 
liberty only to the laws ; and it ought to be the 
care of good governments, that this sacrifice of 
the individual is repaid him with security, and with 
interest; otherwise, the splendid declarations of 
Rousseau might be verified, and a state of nature 
preferred to a state of civilization. The liberty 
we obtain by being members of civilized society, 
would be licentiousness, if it allowed us to harm 
others, and slavery, if it prevented us from bene- 
fitting ourselves. True liberty, therefore, allows 
each individual to do all the good he can to himself 
without injuring his neighbour. 



Of two evils, it is perhaps less injurious to 
society, that a good doctrine should be accompa- 
nied by a bad life, than that a good life should lend 
its support to a bad doctrine. For the sect, if once 
established, will survive the founder. When doc- 
trines, radically bad in themselves, are transmitted 
to posterity, recommended by the good life of their 
author, this is to arm a harlot with beauty, and to 
heighten the attractions of a vain and unsound 
philosophy. I question if Epicurus and Hume 
have done mankind greater injury by the looseness 
of their doctrines, than by the purity of their lives. 
Of such men we may more justly exclaim, than of 
Cesar, < confound their virtues ! they have undone 
the world.' 



LACUN, 135 

Many have been thought capable of governing, 
until they have been called to govern ; and others 
have been deemed incapable, who, when called into 
power, have most agreeably disappointed public 
opinion, by far surpassing all previous anticipation. 
The fact is, that the great and little vulgar too 
often judge of the blade by the scabbard ; and 
shining outward qualities, although they may excite 
first rate expectations, are not unusually found to 
be the companions of second rate abilities. Where- 
as, to possess a head equal to the greatest events, 
and a heart superior to the strongest temptations, 
are qualities which may be possessed so secretly, 
that a man's next door neighbour shall not discover 
them, until some unforeseen and fortunate occasion 
has called them forth. 



The ignorance of the Chinese may be attributed 
to their language. A literary Chinese must spend 
half his life in acquiring a thorough knowledge of 
it. The use of metaphor, which may be said 
to be the algebra of language, is, I apprehend, 
unknown amongst them. And as language, after 
all, is made up only of the signs and counters of 
knowledge, he that is obliged to lose so much 
time in acquiring the sign, will have but little of the 
thing. So complete is the ignorance of this con- 
ceited nation, on many points, that very curious 
brass models of all the mechanical powers, which 
the French government had sent over as a present, 
they considered to be meant as toys for the 
amusement of the grandchildren of the emperor. 
And I have heard the late Sir George Staunton 
declare, that the costly mathematical instruments 



136 L A C O N, 

made by Ramsden and Dolland, and taken to Pekin 
by Lord Macartney, were as utterly useless to the 
Chinese, as a steam-engine to an Esquimaux, or a 
loom to a Hottentot. The father of Montaigne, 
not inaptly to my present subject, has observed, 
that the tedious time we moderns employ in acquir- 
ing the language of the ancient Greeks and Romans, 
which cost them nothing, is the principal reason 
why we cannot arrive at that grandeur of soul and 
perfection of knowledge that was in them. But 
the learned languages, after all, are indispensable to 
form the gentleman and the scholar, and are well 
worth all the labour that they havo cost us, pro- 
vided they are valued not for themselves alone, 
which would make a pedant, but as a foundation 
for further acquirements. The foundation, there- 
fore, should be in a great measure hidden, and its 
solidity presumed and inferred from the strength, 
elegance, and convenience of the superstructure. 
In one of the notes to a former publication, I have 
quoted an old writer, who observes, \ that we fatten 
a sheep with grass, not in order to obtain a crop 
of hay from his back, but in the hope that he will 
feed us with mutton, and clothe us with wool.' 
We may apply this to the sciences, we teach a 
young man algebra, the mathematics, and logic, 
not that he should take his equations and paral- 
lelograms into Westminster Hall, nor bring his ten 
predicaments to the House of Commons, but that 
he should bring a mind to both these places, so well 
stored with the sound principles of truth and of 
reason, as not to be deceived by the chicanery of 
the bar, nor the sophistry of the senate. The ac- 
quirements of science may be termed the armour 



LACOiv. 137 

of the mind ; but that armour would be worse 
than useless, that cost us all we had, and left us 
nothing to defend. 

That is not the most perfect beauty, which, in 
public would attract the greatest observation ; nor 
even that which the statuary would admit to be a 
faultless piece of clay, kneaded up with blood. 
But that is true beauty, which has not only a sub- 
stance, but a spirit, — a beauty that we must 
intimately know, justly to appreciate, — a beauty 
lighted up in conversation, where the mind shines, 
as it were, through its casket, where, in the language 
of the poet, * the eloquent Hood spoke in her cheeks, 
and so distinctly wrought, that we might almost say 
her body thought? An order and a mode of beauty, 
which, the more we know, the more we accuse 
ourselves for not having before discovered those 
thousand graces which bespeak that their owner 
has a soul. This is that beauty which never cloys, 
possessing charms, as resistless as the fascinating 
Egyptian, for which Antony wisely paid the bauble 
of the world — a beauty like the rising of his own 
Italian suns, always enchanting, never the same. 



He that can please nobody, is not so much to be 
pitied, as he that nobody can please. 

Revenge is a debt, in the paying of which, the 
greatest knave is honest and sincere, and, so far 
as he is able, punctual. But there is a difference 
between a debt of revenge, and every other debt. 
By paying our other debts, we are equal with all 
mankind ; but in refusing to pay a debt of revenge, 
12* 



138 LA CON. 

we are superior. Yet it must be confessed, that it 
is much less difficult to forgive our enemies, than 
our friends ; and if we ask how it came to pass that 
Coriolanus found it so hard a task to pardon Rome, 
the answer is, that he was himself a Roman. 



If rich, it is easy enough to conceal our wealth; 
but, if poor, it is not quite so easy to conceal our 
poverty. We shall find that it is less difficult to 
hide a thousand guineas 5 than one hole in our coat 



The cynic who twitted Aristippus, by observing, 
that the philosopher who could dine on herbs might 
despise the company of a king, was well replied to 
by Aristippus, when he remarked, that the philo- 
sopher who could enjoy the company of a king, 
might also despise a dinner of herbs, 

* Non prandcret olus si sciret re gibus nti?* 

Nothing is more common than to hear people abus- 
ing courtiers, and affecting to despise courts ; yet 
most of these would be proud of the acquaintance 
of the one, and would be glad to live in the other. 
The history of the Conclave will show us how 
ready all men are to renounce philosophy for the 
most distant probability of a crown. Whereas, 
Casimir of Poland, and Christina of Sweden, are 
likely to remain the alpha and the omega, the first 
and the last, of those who have renounced a crown 
for the sake of philosophy. 



* He would not di?ie on kerbs, if he could iwnage kings. 
—Pub. 



LAO ON. 139 

Wars are to the body politic, what drams arc to 
the individual. There are times when they may 
prevent a sudden death, but if frequently resorted 
to, or long persisted in, they heighten the energies, 
only to hasten the dissolution. 



It has been shrewdly said, that when men abuse 
us, we should suspect ourselves, and when they 
praise us, them. It is a rare instance of virtue to 
despise censure, which we do not deserve; and 
still more rare, to despise praise, which we do. 
Bnt the integrity that lives only on opinion, would 
starve without it ; and that theatrical kind of virtue, 
which requires publicity for its stage, and an ap- 
plauding world for its audience, could not be de- 
pended on, in the secrecy of solitude, or the retire- 
ment of a desert 



This is the tax a man must pay to his virtues — 
they hold up a torch to his vices, and render those 
frailties notorious in him, which would have passed 
without observation in another. 



Those hypochondriacs, who, like Herodius, give 
up their whole time and thoughts, to the care of 
their health, sacrifice unto life, every noble purpose 
of living ; striving to support a frail and feverish 
being here, they neglect an hereafter ; they con- 
tinue to patch up and repair their mouldering 
tenement of clay, regardless of the immortal ten- 
ant that must survive it ; agitated by greater fears 
than the apostle, and supported by none of his 
hopes, they ' die daily.' 



140 LACO N. 

Intimacy has been the source of the deadliest 
enmity, no less than of the firmest friendship ; like 
some mighty rivers, which rise on the same moun- 
tain, but pursue a quite contrary course. 



The intoxication of anger, like that of the grape, 
shows us to others, but hides us from ourselves ; 
and we injure our own cause, in the opinion of the 
world, when we too passionately and eagerly de- 
fend it ; like the father of Virginia, who murdered 
his daughter to prevent her violation. Neither will 
all men be disposed to view our quarrels in the 
same light that we do ; and a man's blindness to 
his own defects will ever increase, in proportion as 
he is angry with others, or pleased with himself. 



Falsehood, like a drawing in perspective, will 
not bear to be examined in every point of view, 
because, it is a good imitation of truth, as a per- 
spective is of the reality, only in one. But truth, 
like that reality, of which the perspective is the 
representation, w T ill bear to be scrutinized in all 
points of view, and though examined under every 
situation, is one and the same. 



There are some characters whose bias it is im- 
possible to calculate, and on whose probable con- 
duct we cannot hazard the slightest prognostica- 
tion ; they often evince energy in the merest tri- 
fles, and appear listless and indifferent, on occa- 
sions of the greatest interest and importance ; one 
would suppose they had been dipped in the foun- 
tain of Hammon, whose waters, according to Dio- 
dorus, are cold by day, and hot only by night } 



LA CON. Ml 

There are some who refuse a favour so gra- 
ciously, as to please us even by the refusal; and 
there are others who confer an obligation so clum- 
sily, that they please us less by the measure, than 
they disgust us by the manner of a kindness, as 
puzzling to our feelings, as the politeness of one, 
who, if we had dropped our handkerchief, should 
present it unto us with a pair of tongs ! 



It has been said, that the retreat shows the 
general, as the reply the orator ; and it is partly 
true ; although a general would rather build his 
fame on his advances, than on his retreats, and on 
what he has attained, rather than on what he has 
abandoned. Moreau, we know, was famous for 
his retreats, insomuch, that his companions in 
arms compared him to a drum, which nobody hears 
of, except it be beaten. But, it is nevertheless true, 
that the merits of a general are not to be appre- 
ciated by the battle alone, but by those dispositions 
that preceded it, and by those measures that fol- 
lowed it. Hannibal knew better how to conquer, 
than how to profit by the conquest ; and Napoleon 
was more skilful in taking positions, than in main- 
taining them. As to reverses, no general can 
presume to say that he may not be defeated ; but 
he can, and ought to say, that he will not be sur- 
prised. There are dispositions so skilful, that the 
battle may be considered to be won before it is 
fought, and the campaign to be decided, even be 
fore it is contested. There are generals who have 
accomplished more by the march, than by the 
musket ; and Europe saw in the lines of Torres 
Vedras, a simple telescope in the hands of a Wel- 
lington, become an instalment, more fatal arid 



142 LAC ON. 

destructive than all the cannon in llie camp of his 
antagonist. 



Expect not praise without envy until you are 
dead. Honours bestowed on the illustrious dead, 
have in them no admixture of envy ; for the living 
pity the dead ; and pity and envy, like oil and 
vinegar, assimilate not ; — 

' TJrit enim fulgore suo qui prc&gravat artes 
Infra se positas, cxtinctus, amabitur idem! 



Mental pleasures never cloy; unlike those of the 
body, they are increased by repetition, approved of 
by reflection, and strengthened by enjoyment. 



Those who have resources within themselves, 
who can dare to live alone, want friends the least, 
but at the same time, know how to prize them the 
most. No company, is far preferable to bad> 
because we are more apt to catch the vices of 
others than their virtues, as disease is far more 
contagious than health. 



It is better to meet danger than to wait for it. 
He that is on a leeshore and foresees a hurricane, 
stands out to sea, and encounters a storm to avoid 
a shipwreck. And thus, the legislator who meets 
some evils, half subdues them. In the grievous 
dearth that visited the land of Egypt, Joseph fore- 
stalled the evil, and adopted measures that pro- 
claimed to the nation, 4 You shall not feast, in ordei 
that you may not fast ; and although you must sub- 

* He whose proud genius soars above the arts, 

Burns white he shines, but dead, is loved again. — Pu»> 



LACON. 113 

mit to a scarcity, you shall not endure a famine.' 
And those very persons who have been decried by 
shortsighted reasoners in this country, as regraters 
and monopolizers, are, in times of real deficiency, 
the actual Josephs of the land. Like the pr&sto- 
latores in the camp of the Romans, they spy out 
the nakedness of the land before the main body 
are advised of it, and by raising the price of the 
commodity, take the only means to ensure an econ- 
omy in the use of it. 



Louis the Fourteenth having become a king by 
the death of his minister, Mazarin, set up the trade 
of a conqueror on his own account. The devil 
treated him as he does young gamesters, and bid 
very high for him at first, by granting him unexam- 
pled success ; he finished by punishing him with 
reverses equally unexampled. Thus, that sun 
which he had taken for his device, although it rose 
in cloudless majesty, was doomed to set in obscu- 
rity, tarnished by the smoke of his defeats, and 
tinged with the blood of his subjects. 



It is an old saying, that ' Truth lies in a well,' but 
the misfortune is, that some men will use no chain 
to draw her up, but that which is so long that it is 
the labour of their life to finish it ; or if they live 
to complete it, it may be that the first links are 
eaten up by rust, before the last are ready. Others, 
on the contrary, are so indolent, that they would 
attempt to draw up truth without any chain, or by 
means of one that is too short. Both of these will 
miss their object. A wise man will provide a 
chain for this necessary purpose, that has not a link 



144 LA C :JJT . 

too much, nor a link too little, and on the first be 
will write 'ars longaf* and on the last. ' vita brc&is.'j 



Doubt is the vestibule which all must pass, 
before they can enter into the temple of wisdom ; 
therefore, when we are in doubt and puzzle out the 
truth by our own exertions, we' have jvakied a 
something that will stay by us. and which will 
serve us again. But, if Co avoid the trouble of the 
search, we avail ourselves of the superior informa- 
tion of a friend, such knowledge will not remain 
with us ; we have not bought, but borrowed it. 



Oreat men. like comets, are eccentric in their 
courses, rv formed to do extensive good, by modes 
u:; intelligible to vulgar minds Hence, like those 
erratic orbs in the firmament, it is their fate to be 
miscomprehended by fools, and misrepresented by 
knaves; to be abused for all the good they actually 
do, and to be accused of ills with which they have 
nothing to do, neither in design or execution. 



Some men who have evinced a certain degree of 
wit and talent in private companies, fail miserably 
when they attempt to appear as public characters 
on the grand theatre of human life. Great men in 
a little circle, but little men in a great one, they 
show their learning to the ignorant, but their igno- 
rance to the learned ; the powers of their mind 
seem to be parched up and withered by the public 
gaze, as Welch cascades before a summer sun, 
which, by the by, we are told, are vastly fine in 
the winter, when nobody goes to see them. 

* Art is long- Pub. + Life is short.—VvB. 



L A C O X . 145 

Great men often obtain their ends, by means 
beyond the grasp of vulgar intellect, and even by 
methods diametrically opposite to those which the 
multitude would pursue. But, to effect this, be- 
speaks as profound a knowledge of mind, as that 
philosopher evinced of matter, who first produced 
ice by the agency of heat. 



Those that are the loudest in their threats, are 
the weakest in the execution of them. In spring- 
ing a mine, that which has done the most extensive 
mischief makes the smallest report; and again, if 
we consider the effect of lightning, it is probable 
that he that is killed by it, hears no noise ; but the 
thunderclap which follows, and which most alarms 
the ignorant, is the surest proof of their safety. 



We most readily forgive that attack, which 
affords us an opportunity of reaping a splendid tri- 
umph. A wise man will not sally forth from his 
doors to cudgel a fool, who is in the act of break- 
ing his windows, by pelting them with guineas. 



That an author's work is the mirror of his mind, 
is a position that has led to very false conclusions. 
If Satan himself were to write a book, it would be 
in praise of virtue, because the good would pur- 
chase it for use, and the bad for ostentation. 

It is not known where he that invented the 
plough was born, or where he died ; yet he has 
effected more for the happiness of the world, than 
the whole race of heroes and conquerors, who 
have drenched it with tears, and manured it with 
blood, and whose birth, parentage, and education 



146 LACON. 

have been handed down to us with a precision pre 
cisely proportionate to the mischief they have 
done. 

As the gout seems privileged to attack the bodies 
of the wealthy, so ennui seems to exert a similar 
prerogative over their minds. I should consider 
the middle and lov/er classes, in this country, is a 
great measure exempt from this latter malady of 
the mind; first, because there is no vernacular 
name that fully describes it, in our language ; and 
secondly, because we shall find it difficult to explain 
this disease to such persons ; they will admit how- 
ever, that they have sometimes thought a rainy 
Sunday, particularly tedious and long. In the con- 
stitution of our nature, it so happens, that pleasure 
cloys and hebetates the powers of enjoyment very 
soon, but that pain does not, by any means, in an 
equal proportion, dull the powers of suffering. A 
fit of the toothache, or the tic doloreux, shall conti- 
nue their attacks with slight intermission for 
months, and the last pang shall be as acute as the 
first. Again, we are so framed and fashioned, that 
our sensations may continue alive for years, to tor- 
ment, after they have been dead for years, to tran- 
sport ; and it would be well, if old age, which has « 
been said to forbid the pleasures of youth, on 
penalty of death, interdicted us also from those 
pains which are unhappily as much or more the lot 
of the old than of the young. The cold and shri- 
velled hand of time is doubly industrious ; he not 
only plucks up flowers, but he plants thorns in theii 
room ; and punishes the bad, with the recollections 
of the past, the sufferings of the present, and the 
anticipation of the future, until death becomes their 



L A COX. 147 

only remedy, because life hath become their sole 
disease. If these observations be just, their appli- 
cation to ennui, our present subject, is obvious. 
For he that does labour under acute pain, will be 
too much occupied for ennui ; and he that does 
not, has no right to indulge it, because he is not in 
the fruition of vivid pleasure. It is not in the 
nature of things that vivid pleasure should conti- 
nue long ; their very continuance must make them 
cease to be vivid. Therefore, we might as well 
suffer ennui, because we are not angels but men. 
There are indeed, some spirits so ardent, that 
change of employment to them is rest, and their 
only fatigue a cessation from activity. But, even 
these, if they make pleasure a business, will be 
equally subject to ennui, with more phlegmatic 
minds ; for mere pleasure, although it may refresh 
the weary, wearies the refreshed. Gaming has 
been resorted to by the affluent, as a refuge from 
ennui ; it is a mental dram, and may succeed for a 
moment, but, like all other stimuli, it produces indi- 
rect debility ; and those who have recourse to it, 
will find that the sources of their ennui are far 
more inexhaustible than those of their purse. 
Ennui, perhaps, has made more gamblers than ava- 
rice, more drunkards than thirst, and perhaps as 
many suicides as despair. Its only cure* is the 

* It would seem that employment is more efficacious in 
the cure of ennui than society. A young Huron, in a village 
near Quebec, emphatically exclaimed to an English travel- 
ler, ' On s'ennuie dans le village, et on ne s'ennuie jamais 
dans le bois.' We all remember the instance of that man 
of rank and title, who destroyed himself in full possession 
of every thing that could make life desirable, leaving it on 
record, that he committed the act, only because he was tired 
of putting on his clothes in the morning, and taking them off 



148 L A C O N 

pursuit of some desirable object; if fcliat_ object be 
worthy of our pursuit and our desires, tile prog- 
nostics of a cure are still more favourable ; — if the 
object be a distant one, yet affording constant 
opportunities of pursuit and advancement, the cure 
is certain, until the object be attained; — but if that 
object cannot be attained, nor even expected, until 
after' death, although the means of its attainment 
must last as long as our life, and occur as constantly 
as the moments that compose it, we may then 
exclaim ' I have found? with more cause than the 
philosopher, and seek from the dying Christian an 
infallible nostrum for all the evils of ennui. 



Heaven may have happiness as utterly unknown 
to us, as the gift of perfect vision would be to a 
man born blind. If we consider the inlets of plea- 
sure from five senses only, we may be sure that 
the same being who created us, could have given 
us five hundred if he had pleased. Mutual love, pure 
and exalted, founded on charms both mental and 
corporeal, as it constitutes the highest happiness on 
earth, may,, for any thing we know to the contrary, 
also form the lowest happiness of Heaven. And 
it would appear consonant with the administration 
of Providence in other matters, that there should 
be such a link between earth and heaven ; for, in 
all cases, a chasm seems to be purposely avoided, 

again at night ; and in times still near to us, John Mad- 
docks, and Henry Gtuin, Esq of Dublin notoriety, the for- 
mer in the clear unincumbered possession of six thousand 
pounds per annum, and both of them in full possession of 
health and competence, destroyed themselves for no other 
reason but because they were tired of the unvaried repe 
titions and insipid amusements of life, 



LAC ON. 149 

'prudente Deo.™ Thus, the material world has its 
links, by which it is made to shake hands, as it 
were, with the vegetable — the vegetable with the 
animal — the animal with the intellectual — and the 
intellectual with what we may be allowed to hope 
of the angelic. 



Nothing is more common than to hear directly 
opposite accounts of the same countries. The 
difference lies not in the reported, but the reporter. 
Some men are so imperious and overbearing in 
their demeanour, that they would represent even the 
islanders of Peiew, as insolent and extortionate ; 
others are of a disposition so conciliatory and 
unassuming, that they would have little that was 
harsh or barbarous to record, even of the Mussul- 
mans of Constantinople. 



It would be very unfortunate if there were no 
other road to Heaven but through Hell. Yet this 
dangerous and impracticable road has been attempt- 
ed by all those princes, potentates and statesmen, 
who have done evil, that good might come. 



Courage is incompatible with the fear of death; 
but every villain fears death; therefore no villain 
can be brave. He may indeed possess the cou- 
rage of a rat, and fight with desperation when driven 
into a corner. If by craft and crime a successful 
adventurer should be enabled to usurp a kingdom, 
and to command its legions, there may be moments, 
when, like Richard on the field of Bosworth, or 
Napoleon on the plains of Marengo, all must be 

* Through the wisdom of God. Fob. 



150 LACOX. 

staked; an awful crisis, when, ii Lis throne be 
overturned, his scaffold must rise upon its ruins. 
Then, indeed, though the cloud of battle should 
lower on his hopes, while its iron hail is rattling 
around him, the greatest coward will hardly j%, 
to ensure that death which he can only escape by 
facing. Yet the glare of a courage thus elicited 
by danger, where fear conquers fear, is not to be 
compared to that calm sunshine which constantly 
cheers and illuminates the breast of him who 
builds his confidence on virtuous principles ; it is 
rather the transient and evanescent lightning of the 
storm, which derives half its lustre from the dark- 
ness that surrounds it. 



The absent man would wish to be thought a man 
of talent, by affecting to forget what all others 
remember; and the antiquarian is in pursuit of the 
same thing, by remembering what all others have 
thought proper to forget. I cannot but think it 
would much improve society, first, if all absent men 
would take into their heads to turn antiquarians ; 
and next, if all antiquarians would be absent men. 



To know a man, observe how he wins his object, 
rather than how he loses it ; for, when we fail, our 
pride supports us, when we succeed, it betrays us. 



Strong and sharp as our wit may be, it is not so 
strong as the memory of fools, nor so keen as their 
resentment ; he that has not strength of mind to 
forgive, is by no means weak enough to forget ; 
and it is much more easy to do a cruel thing, than 
to say a severe one. 



LAC ON, 151 

In literature, it is very difficult to establish a name. 
Let an author's first work have what merit it may, 
he will lose, if he prints it himself ; and being a 
novus homo in literature, his only chance is to give 
his first edition to his bookseller. It is true that 
the bookseller will offer terms extremely liberal to 
those who have established a reputation, and will 
lose by many, who, like Scott, have written spirit- 
edly for fame, but tamely for money. But, even in 
this case, the booksellers have no right to complain ; 
for these calculating Maecenases ought to remem- 
ber, that if they pay too dearly for the lees, they 
had the first squeezing of the grapes for nothing.* 

In addressing the multitude, we must remember 
to follow the advice that Cromwell gave his soldiers, 
1 fire low? This is the great art of the Methodists, 
i fas est et ah hoste doeeri.'f If our eloquence be 
directed above the heads of our hearers, we shall 
do no execution. By pointing our arguments low, 
we stand a chance of hitting their hearts, as well 
as their heads. In addressing angels, we could 
hardly raise our eloquence too high ; but we must 
remember that men are not angels. Would we 
warm them by our eloquence, unlike Mahomet's 
mountain, it must come down to them, since they 
cannot raise themselves to it. It must come home 
\o their wants and their wishes, to their hopes and 
their fears, to their families and their firesides. 
The moon gives a far greater light than all the 
fixed stars put together, although she is much 

* Those who continue to write after their wit is exhaust- 
ed, may be compared to those old maids, who give ns one 
cup of good tea, but all the rest of milk and water. 

t // is wise to learn of our enemies. — Pub. 



152 L A C O K . 

smaller tlian any of them ; the reason is, that the 
stars are superior and remote, but the moon is infe- 
rior and contiguous. 



The plainest man who pays attention to women, 
will sometimes succeed as well as the handsomest 
man who does not. Wilkes observed to Lord 
Townsend, ' You, my lord, are the handsomest 
man in the kingdom, and I the plainest. But I 
would give your lordship half an hour's start, and 
yet come up with you in the affections of any wo- 
man we both wished to win ; because all those 
attentions which you would omit on the score of 
fine exterior, 1 should be obliged to pay, owing to 
the deficiencies of mine.' 



Agriculture is the most certain source of strength, 
wealth and independence. Commerce flourishes 
fry circumstances precarious, contingent, transitory, 
almost as liable to change, as the Winds and waves 
that waft it to our shores. She may well be 
termed the younger sister, for, in all emergencies, 
she looks to agriculture, both for defence and for 
supply. The earth, indeed, is doubly grateful, in- 
asmuch as she not only repays forty fold to the 
cultivator, but reciprocally improves its improver, 
rewarding him with strength, health, and vigour. 
Agriculture, therefore, is the true qfficina militum ;* 
and in her brave and hardy peasantry, she offers a 
legitimate and trusty sword, to those rulers that 
duly appreciate her value, and court her alliance. 
It is, however, more easy to convert husbandmen 
into excellent soldiers, than to imitate Romulus, 
who could at will reconvert them again. — He first 

* Storehouse of soldiers. Pi:b. 



LAC ON. L53 

moulded those materials that conquered tlie world. 
a peasantry victorious in war, laborious in peace, 
despisers of sloth, prepared to reap the bloodless 
harvest of the sickle, after having secured that of 
the sword. ' The only employments,' says Dion, 
1 that Romulus left to freemen, were agriculture and 
warfare ; for he observed that men so employed are 
more temperate, less entangled in the pursuits of 
forbidden love, and subject to that kind of avarice 
only, which leads them not to injure one another, 
but to enrich themselves at the expense of the 
enemy. But finding that each of these occupa- 
tions, separate from the other, is imperfect, and 
produces murmurs ; instead of appointing one part 
of the men to till the earth, and the other to lay 
waste the enemy's country, according to the insti- 
tution of the Lacedemonians, he ordered the same 
persons to exercise the employments, both of hus- 
bandmen and of soldiers ; and accustomed them 
in time of peace, to live in the country and culti- 
vate the land, except when it was necessary for 
lliem to come to market, upon which occasions 
they were to meet in the city in order to traffic ; 
and to that end he appointed a market to be held 
every ninth day. In time of war, he taught them 
the duty of soldiers, and not to yield to any other, 
in the fatigues or advantages that attend it.' 



Avarice has ruined more men than prodigality, 
and the blindest thoughtlessness of expenditure 
.has not destroyed so many fortunes, as the calcu- 
lating but insatiable lust of accumulation. 



Some reputed saints that have been canonized, 
ought to have been cannonaded ; and some reputed 



151 LAC ON. 

sinners that have been cannonaded, ought to have 
been canonized. 

To be satisfied with the acquittal of the world, 
though accompanied with the secret condemnation 
of conscience, is the mark of a little mind ; but it 
requires a soul of no common stamp, to be satis- 
fied with his own acquittal, and to despise the con- 
demnation of the world. 



An Irishman rights before he reasons, a Scotch- 
man reasons before he fights, an Englishman is not 
particular as to the order of precedence, but will 
do either to accommodate his customers. A 
modern general has said, that the best troops would 
be as follows : an Irishman half drunk, a Scotch- 
man half starved, and an Englishman with his belly 
full. 



If some persons v/ere to bestow one half of their 
fortune in learning how to spend the other half, it 
would be money extremely well laid out. He that 
spends two fortunes, and, permitting himself to be 
twice ruined, dies at last a beggar, deserves no 
commiseration. He has gained neither experience 
from trial, nor repentance from reprieve. He has 
been all his life abusing fortune without enjoying 
her, and purchasing wisdom without possessing her. 



Relations take the greatest liberties, and give 
the least assistance. If a stranger cannot help us 
with his purse, he will not insult us with his com- 
ments ; but with relations, it mostly happens that 
they are the veriest misers with regard to then 



LA CON. 155 

property, but perfect prodigals in the article of 
advice. 



After hypocrites, the greatest dupes the devil 
has, are those who exhaust an anxious existence 
in the disappointments and vexations of business, 
and live miserably and meanly, only to die mag- 
nificently and rich. For, like the hypocrites, the 
only disinterested action these men can accuse 
themselves of, is, that of serving the devil without 
receiving his wages ; for the assumed formality of 
the one, is not a more effectual bar to enjoyment 
than the real avarice of the other. He that stands 
every day of his life behind a counter, until he 
drops from it into the grave, may negotiate many 
very profitable bargains ; but he has made a single 
bad one, so bad. indeed, that it counterbalances all 
the rest ; for the empty foolery of dying rich, he 
has paid down his health, his happiness, and his 
integrity ; since a very old author observes, that 
6 as mortar sticketh between the stones, so sticketh 
fraud between buying and selling.'' Such a world- 
ling may be compared to a merchant, who should 
put a rich cargo into a vessel, embark with it him- 
self, and encounter all the perils and privations of 
the sea, although he was thoroughly convinced 
beforehand, that he was only providing for a ship- 
wreck, at the end of a troublesome and tedious 
voyage 



Women do not transgress the bounds of deco- 
um so often as men, but when they do, they go 
greater lengths. For with reason somewhat weaker, 
hey have to contend with passions somewhat 



156 L A C O N . 

stronger ; besides, a female by one transgression 
forfeits her place in society for ever ; if once she 
falls, it is the fall of Lucifer. It is hard, indeed, 
that the law of opinion should be most severe on 
that sex which is least able to bear it ; but so it is, 
and if the sentence be harsh, the sufferer should be 
reminded that it was passed by her peers. There- 
fore, if once a woman breaks through the barriers 
of decency, her case is desperate ; and if she goes 
greater lengths than the men, and leaves the pale 
of propriety farther behind her, it is because she is 
aware that all return is prohibited, and by none so 
strongly as by her own sex. We may also add, 
that as modesty is the richest ornament of a woman, 
the want of it is her greatest deformity, for the bet- 
ter the thing, the worse will ever be its perversion, 
and if an angel falls, the transition must be to a 
demon. 

Of the professions, it may be said, that soldiers 
are becoming too popular, parsons too lazy, physi- 
cians too mercenary, and lawyers too powerful. 

Most men abuse courtiers, and affect to despise 
courts ; yet most men are proud of the acquaint- 
ance of the one, and would be glad to live in the 
other. 



Evils are more to be dreaded from the sudden- 
ness of their attack, than from their magnitude, or 
their duration. In the storms of life, thtfse that 
are foreseen are half overcome, but the tiffoon is a 
just cause of alarm to the helmsman, pouncing on 
the vessel, as an eagle on her prey. 



LACON. 157 

Homer, not contented with making his hero 
invulnerable every where but in the heel, and sa 
swift of foot, that if he did run nobody could catch 
him, completes the whole by making a god his 
blacksmith, and covering him, like a rhinoceros, 
with a coat of mail from a superhuman manufac- 
tory. With all those advantages, since his object 
was to surprise his readers, he should have made 
his bully a coward, rather than a hero. 



Of method, this may be said, if we make it our 
slave, it is well ; but it is bad if we are slaves to 
method. A gentleman o&ce told me, that he made 
it a regular rule to read fifty pages every day of 
some author or other, and on no account to fall 
short of that number, or to exceed it. I silently 
set him down for a man who might have taste to 
read something worth writing, but who never could 
have genius himself to write any thing worth 
reading. 



Deliberate with caution, but act with decision ; 
and yield with graciousness, or oppose with firm- 
ness. 

There are many good-natured fellows, who have 
paid the forfeit of their lives to their love of ban- 
tering and raillery. No doubt they have had 
much diversion, but they have purchased it too 
dear. Although their wit and their brilliancy may 
have been often extolled, yet it has at last been 
extinguished for ever ; and by a foe, perhaps, who 
has neither the one nor the other^ but who found 
it easier to point a sword than a repartee. 1 have 
heard of a man in the province of Bengal, who had 
14 



158 LAC ON. 

been a long time very successful in hunting the 
tiger. His skill gained him great eclat, and ensured 
him much diversion ; at length he narrowly escaped 
with his life ; he then relinquished the sport, with 
this observation : ' Tiger hunting is very fine 
amusement, so long as we hunt the tiger ; but it is 
rather awkward when the tiger takes it into his 
head to hunt us.' Again, this skill in small wit, 
like skill in small arms, is very apt to beget a con- 
fidence which may prove fatal in the end. We may 
either mistake the proper moment, for even cow- 
ards have their fighting days, or we may mistake 
the proper man. A certain Savoyard got his live- 
lihood by exhibiting a monkey and a bear ; he 
gained so much applause from his tricks with the 
monkey, that he was encouraged to practise some 
of them on the bear ; he was dreadfully lacerated, 
and on being rescued with great difficulty from the 
gripe of Bruin, he exclaimed : ' What a fool was I 
not to distinguish between a monkey and a bear ! 
A bear, my friends, is a very grave kind of person- 
age, and as you plainly see, does not understand a 
joke !' 

It is always safe to learn, even from our ene- 
mies — seldom safe to venture to instruct, even our 
friends. 



If men have been termed pilgrims, and life a 
journey, then we may add, that the Christian pil- 
grimage far surpasses all others, in the following 
important particulars : in the goodness of the road, 
— in the beauty of the prospects — in the excel- 
lence of the company — and in the vast superiority 



LAC ON. 15$ 

6f the accommodation provided for the Christian 
traveller, when he has finished his course. 

All who have been great and good without 
Christianity, would have been much greater and 
better with it. If there be amongst the sons of 
men, a single exception to this maxim, the divine 
Socrates may be allowed to put in the strongest 
claim. It was his high ambition to deserve, by 
deeds, not by creeds, an unrepealed heaven ; and 
by works,, not by faith, to enter an unpromised 
land. 



Though the Godhead were to reward and to 
exalt, without limit, and without end, yet the 
object of its highest favours could never offend the 
brightness of his eternal majesty, by too near an 
approximation to it *, for the difference between 
the Creator and- the created must ever be infinite, 
and the barrier that divides them insurmountable. 



Of all the marvellous works of the Deity, per- 
haps there is nothing that angels behold with such 
supreme astonishment as a proud man. 



Vanity finds in self-love so powerful an ally, that 
it storms, as it were, by a coup de main, the citadel 
of our heads, where, having blinded the two watch- 
men, it readily descends into the heart. A cox- 
comb begins by determining that his own profession 
is the first ; and he finishes,, by deciding thaf he is 
the first of his profession. 

A poor nation that relaxes not from her attitude 
of defence, is less likely to be attacked, though 



160 LACOK, 

surrounded by powerful neighbours, than anothei 
nation which possesses wealth, commerce, popula 
tion, and all the sinews of war, in far greater abun 
dance, but unprepared. For the more sleek the 
prey, the greater is the temptation ; and no wolf 
will leave a sheep, to dine upon a porcupine. 

Memory is the friend of wit, but the treacherous 
ally of invention. ; there are many books that owe 
their success to two things, the good memory of 
those who write them, and the bad memory of those 
who read them. 



Suicide sometimes proceeds from cowardice, 
but not always ; for cowardice sometimes prevents 
it ; since as many live because they are afraid to 
die, as die because they are afraid to live. 



We submit to the society of those that can 
inform us, but we seek the society of those whom 
we can inform. And men of genius ought not to 
be chagrined if they see themselves neglected. 
For, when we communicate knowledge, we are 
raised in our own estimation, but when we receive 
it, we are lowered. That, therefore, which has 
been observed of treason, may be said also of 
talent, we love instruction, but hate the instructer, 
and use the light, but abuse the lantern. 

Vice stings us even in our pleasures, but virtue 
consoles Us even in our pains. 



There are four classes of men in the world: 
first, those whom every one would wish to talk to 
and whom every one does talk of; — these are 



LACON. 261 

that small minority, that constitute the great 
Secondly, those whom no one wishes to talk to, 
and whom no one does talk of; — these are the 
vast majority, that constitute the little. The third 
class is made up of those whom every body talks 
of, but nobody talks to ; — these constitute the 
knaves. And the fourth is composed of those 
whom every body talks to, but whom nobody talks 
of; and these constitute the fools. 



He that, like the wife of Cesar, is above suspi- 
cion, is alone the fittest person to undertake the 
noble and adventurous task of diverting the shafts 
of calumny from him who has been wounded with- 
out cause, has fallen without pity, and cannot 
stand without help. It is the possessor of unblem- 
ished character alone, who, on such an occasion, 
may dare to stand, like Moses, in the gap, and stop 
the plague of detraction, until Truth and Time, 
those slow but steady friends, shall come up, to 
vindicate the protected, and dignify the protector. 
A good character, therefore, is carefully to be main- 
tained for the sake of others, if possible, more than 
ourselves ; it is a coat of triple steel, giving secu- 
rity to the wearer, protection to the oppressed, and 
inspiring the oppressor with awe. 



Courage is generosity of the highest order, for 
the brave are prodigal of the most precious things. 
Our blood is nearer and dearer to us than our 
money, and our life than our estate. Women. are 
more taken with courage than with generosity, for 
it has all the merits of its sister yirtue, with tho 
14* 



162 LACON. 

addition of the most disinterested devotedness, 
and powerful protection. Generosity enters so 
much into the constitution of courage, that, with 
the exception of the great Duke of Marlborough,* 
we shall hardly find an instance of undaunted 
personal bravery, coexisting in the same breast, 
with great avarice. The self-denial of Christianity, 
the magnanimity of chivalry, all that is splendid 
in history, or captivating in romance, seems to 
have been made up of courage, or generosity, or 
of both. In fact, true courage, well directed, 
can neither be overpaid nor overpraised. A hero 
is not composed of common materials ; his ex- 
pense is hazard, his coin is blood, and out of the 
very impossibilities of the coward he cuts a peril- 
ous harvest with the sword. We cannot aspire to 
so high a character on cheaper terms, otherwise 
FalstafT's soldiers might be allowed their claim, 
since they were afraid of nothing, but danger. It 
is unfortunate, however, that presence of mind is 
always most necessary, when absence of body 
would be most desirable ; and there is this paradox 
in fear, he is most likely to inspire it in others, who 
has none himself. 



Natural good is so intimately connected with 
moral good, and natural evil with moral evil, that I 
am as certain as if I heard a voice from heaven 
proclaim it, that God is on the side of virtue. 

* At a certain diplomatic dinner, where there were many 
foreigners of distinction, the duke gave for a toast, ' My 
queen.' One of the party, who sat next to Prince Eugene, 
inquired of him, in a whisper, { what queen his grace had 
given.' ' I know of no queen that is his particular favour- 
ite,' replied the prince, ' except it be regma pecunia? 



LACON. 163 

He has learned much, and has not lived in vain, 
who has practically discovered the most strict and 
necessary connexion that does, and will ever exist, 
between vice and misery, virtue and happiness. 
The greatest miracle that the Almighty could per- 
form, would be, to make a bad man happy, even in 
heaven ; he must unparadise that blessed place to 
accomplish it. In its primary signification, all vice, 
that is, all excess, brings on its own punishment, 
even here. By certain fixed, settled, and estab- 
lished laws of Him who is the God of Nature, 
excess of every kind destroys that constitution, 
which temperance would preserve. The debau- 
chee offers up his body a ' living sacrifice* to sin. 

To know exactly how much mischief may be 
ventured upon with impunity, is knowledge suffi- 
cient for a little great man. 



Logic is a large drawer, containing some useful 
instruments, and many more that are superfluous. 
A wise man will look into it for two purposes, to 
avail himself of those instruments that are really 
useful, and to admire the ingenuity with which 
those that; are not so, are assorted and arranged. 

Some have wondered, that disputes about opin- 
ions should so often end in personalities ; but the 
fact is, that such disputes begin with personalities, 
for our opinions are a part of ourselves. 



Many who find the day too long, think life too 
short ; but short as life is, some find it long enough 
to outlive their characters, their constitutions, and 
their estates. 



m LAGON. 

As lie gives proof of a sound and vigorous body, 
that accidentally transgressing the line of demar- 
cation, is confined to the pest-house, and at the end 
of his quarantine, comes out without being infected 
by the plague, so he that can live in courts, those 
hospitals of intellectual disease, without being con- 
taminated by folly or corruption, gives equal proof 
of a sound and vigorous mind. But, as no one 
thinks so meanly of a conjurer as his own zany, 
so none so thoroughly despise a court, as those 
who are thoroughly acquainted with it, particularly 
if to that acquaintance they also add due know- 
ledge of themselves ; for many have retired in 
disgust from a court which they felt they despised, 
to a solitude which they merely fancied they could 
enjoy, only, like Charles the Fifth, to repent of 
their repentance. Such persons, sick of others, 
yet not satisfied with themselves, have closed each 
eventless day, with an anxious wish to be liberated 
from so irksome a liberty, and to retire from so 
melancholy a retirement ; for it requires less 
strength of mind to be dissatisiied with a court, than 
to be contented with a cloister, since, to be disgusted 
with a court, it is only necessary to be acquainted 
with courtiers ; but to enjoy a cloister, we must 
have a thorough knowledge of ourselves. 



Oceans of ink, reams of paper, and disputes infi- 
nite, might have been spared, if wranglers had 
avoided lighting the torch of strife at the wrong end ; 
since a tenth part of the pains expended in attempt- 
ing to prove the why, the where, and the when, 
certain events have happened, would have been 
more than sufficient to prove that they never hap* 
pened at all. 



L A C O N . 

The most admired statues of the Pagan deities, 
were produced in an age of general infidelity; and 
the Romans, when sincere believers in their mytho- 
logy, had not a single god tolerably executed ; yet 
Seneca observes that these primitive ' fictile s dei? 
these gods of clay, were much more propitious 
than those of marble, and were worshipped with an 
adoration more ardent and sincere. Something 
similar to what happened to the religion of impe- 
rial, has since happened to that of pontifical Rome. 
Formerly, that altar was contented with utensils of 
wood, and of lead, but its rites were administered 
by an Austin and a Chrysostom — priests of gold ! 
Tilings are now reversed ; the altar of St. Peter, 
says Jorjin, has golden utensils, but leaden priests ! 



It rarely happens, that the finest writers are the 
most capable of teaching others their art. If 
Shakspeare himself had been condemned to write 
a system of metaphysics explanatory of his magic 
influence over all the passions of the mind, it 
would have been a dull and unsatisfactory work ; 
a heavy task, both to the reader and to the writer. 
All preceptors, therefore, should have that kind of 
genius described by Tacitus, ' equal to their busi- 
ness, but not above it f a patient industry, with 
competent erudition ; a mind depending more on 
its correctness, than its originality, and on its 
memory, rather than on its invention. If we wish 
to cut glass, we must have recourse to a diamond ; 
but if it be our task to sever iron or lead, we must 
make use of a much coarser instrument. To sen- 
tence a man of true genius to the drudgery of a 
school, is to put a racehorse in a mill. 



166 LACON. 

Histrionic talent is not so rare a gift as some* 
imagine : it is both overrated and overpaid. That 
the requisites for a firstrate actor demand a com- 
bination not easily to be found, is an erroneous 
assumption, ascribable, perhaps, to the following 
causes : the market for this kind of talent must 
always be understocked, because very few of those 
who are really qualified to gain theatrical fame, 
will condescend to start for it. To succeed, the 
candidate must be a gentleman by nature, and a 
scholar by education ; there are many who can 
justly boast of this union, but out of that many, 
how few are there that would seek or desire the- 
atrical celebrity. The metropolitan theatre, there- 
fore, can only be recruited from the best samples 
which the provincial theatres will afford, and this 
is a market, abundant as to quantity, but extremely 
deficient as to quality. Johnson told Garrick that 
he and his profession were mutually indebted to 
each other : ' Your profession,' said the doctor, 
4 has made you rich, and you have made your pro- 
fession respectable.' Such men as Smith, Garrick, 
Kemble, and Young, might do honour to any pro- 
fession, and would, perhaps, have succeeded in 
any ; but their attempting success in this depart- 
ment is much more extraordinary than their attaining 
it ; in general, those who possess the necessary 
qualifications for an actor, also feel that they de- 
serve to be something better, and this feeling dic- 
tates a more respectable arena. Neither is the 
title to talent bestowed by the suffrages of a metro- 
politan audience always unequivocal. — Such an 
audience is indeed a tribunal from which an actor 
has no appeal ; but there are many causes which 
conspire to warp and to bias its judgment ; and it 



L A C O N . 167 

often happens, that it is more difficult to please a 
country audience, than a London one. In a coim- 
* try theatre, there is nothing to brihe our decisions ; 
the principal actor is badly supported, and must 
depend solely on himself. In a London theatre, 
the blaze of light and beauty, the splendour of the 
scenery, the skill of the orchestra, are all adsciti- 
tious attractions, acting as avant couriers for the 
performer, and predisposing us to be pleased. Add 
to this that the extended magnificence of a metro- 
politan stage defends the actor from that micro- 
scopic scrutiny, to which he must submit in the 
country. We should also remember, that at times 
it requires more courage to praise, than to censure, 
and the metropolitan actor will always have this 
advantage over the provincial, if we are pleased, 
our taste is flattered in the one instance, but sus- 
pected in the other. 



Envy, if surrounded on all sides by the bright- 
ness of another's prosperity, like the scorpion, 
confined within a circle of fire, will sting itself to 
death. 



We should not be too niggardly in our praise, 
for men will do more to support a character, than 
to raise one. 

There are no two things so much talked of, and 
so seldom seen, as virtue and the funds. 



The depravity of human nature is a favourite 
topic with the priests, but they will not brook that 
the laity should descant upon it: in this respect 
they may be compared to those husbands who 



168 L A C O :V . 

freely abuse their own wives, but. are ready to cut 
the throats of any other man who does so. 

If you cannot avoid a quarrel with a blackguard, 
let your lawyer manage it, rather than yourself. 
No man sweeps his own chimney, but employs a 
chimney-sweeper, who has no objection to dirty 
work, because it is his trade. 



It is easier to pretend to be what you are not, 
than to hide what you really are ; he that can ac- 
complish both, has little to learn in hypocrisy. 

Tn any public scheme or project, it is advisable 
that the p s, ;oser or projector should not at first 
present himself to the public as the sole mover in 
the affair. His neighbours will not like his ego- 
tism, if he be at all ambitious, nor will they willingly 
co-operate in any thing that may place an equal a 
single step above their own heads. Dr. Franklin 
was the projector of many useful institutions in 
the infant state of America. He attained his 
object, and avoided envy, for he himself informs 
us, that his secret was, to propose the measure at 
first, not as originating in himself alone, but as the 
joint recommendation of a few friends. The doc- 
tor was no stranger to the workings of the human 
heart ; for if his measures had failed, their failure 
would not be attributed to him alone, and if they 
succeeded, some one else would claim the merit 
of being the first planner of them. But whenever 
this happens, the original projector will be sure to 
gain from the envy of mankind, that justice, which 
he must not expect from their gratitude ; for all 
the rest of the members will not patiently see an- 



LACO N . im 

other run away with the merit of that plan, which 
originated in the first projector alone, who will, 
therefore, be sure to reap his full due of praise in 
the end, and with that interest which mankind will 
always cheerfully pay, not so much for the justice 
of rewarding the diffident, as for the pleasure of 
lowering the vain. 



Some well meaning Christians tremble for their 
salvation, because they have never gone through 
that valley of tears and of sorrow, which they 
have been taught to consider as an ordeal that must 
be passed through, before they can arrive at regen- 
eration : to satisfy such minds, it may be observed, 
that the slightest sorrow for sin is sufficient, if it 
produce amendment, and that the greatest is insuf- 
ficient, if it do not. Therefore, by their own fruits 
let them prove themselves ; for some soils will take 
the good seed, without being watered by tears, or 
harrowed up by affliction. 



Shakspeare, Butler, and Bacon, have rendered 
it extremely difficult for all who come after them, 
to be sublime, witty, or profound. 



If you have cause to suspect the integrity of one 
with whom you must have dealings, take care that 
you have no communication with him, if he has his 
friend and you have not ; you are playing a dangerous 
game, in which the odds are two to one against you. 



Wh^n the Methodists first decide on the doctrine 

they approve, and then choose such pastors as they 

know will preach no other, they act as wisely as 

a patient, who should send for a physician, and 

15 



170 LACO IS . 

then prescribe to him what medicines he ought to 
advise. 



A necessitous man, who gives costly dinners, 
pays large sums to be laughed at. 



Examinations are formidable, even to the best 
prepared, for the greatest fool may ask, more than 
the wisest man Gan answer. 



It is better to have recourse to a quack, if he 
can cure our disorder, although he cannot explain 
it, than to a physician, if he can explain our disease, 
but cannot cure it. In a certain consultation of 
physicians, they all differed about the nature of 
an intermittent, and ail of them were ready to 
define the disorder. The patient was a king. At 
length an empiric, who had been called in, thus in- 
terposed : ' Gentlemen, you all seem to differ about 
the nature of an intermittent, permit me to explain 
it : an intermittent, gentlemen, is a disorder which 
I can cure, and which you cannot.' 



It is a serious doubt, whether a wise man ought 
to accept of a thousand years of life, even provided 
that those three important advantages of health, 
youth, and riches, could be securely guarantied 
unto him. But this is an offer that can never be 
refused, for it will never bo made. Taking things 
as they really are, it must be confessed that life, 
after forty, is an anti-climax, gradual indeed, and 
progressive with some, but steep and rapid with 
others. It would be well if old age diminished 
our perceptibilities to pain, in the same proportion 
that it does our sensibilities to pleasure ; and if life 



L A c o :\\ 171 

has been termed a feast, those favoured few are the 
most fortunate guests. who are not compelled to sit 
at the table, when they can no longer partake of 
the banquet. The misfortune is that body and 
mind, like man and wife, do not always agree to 
die together. It is bad when the mind survives the 
body ; and worse still when the body survives the 
mind ; but, when both these survive our spirits, our 
hopes, and our health, this is worst of all. 



As some consolation for the fears of the brave, 
and the follies of the wise, let us reflect on the 
magnanimity that has been displayed by the weak, 
and the disinterestedness that has been evinced by 
the mistaken ; by those who have indeed grossly 
erred, but have nobly acted. This reflection will 
increase our veneration for virtue, when even its 
shadow has produced substantial good, and uncon- 
querable heroism ; since a phantom, when mis- 
taken for her, has been pursued with an ardour that 
gathered force from opposition, constancy from per- 
secution, and victorv from death. 



There is this difference bet ween happiness and 
wisdom ; he that thinks himself the happiest man, 
really is so ; but he that thinks himself the wisest, 
is generally the greatest fool. 



Aristotle has said, that man is by nature a social 
animal, and he might have added, a selfish one too. 
Heroism, self-denial and magnanimity, in all instan- 
ces, where they do not spring from a principle of 
religion, are but splendid altars on which we sacri- 
fice one kind of self-icve to another. 1 think it is 
Adam Smith wbo has observed, ffet 'J' a man in 



172 LAC OX. 

Europe were to go to bed with the conviction tha 1 
at the hour of twelve on the following morning, the 
whole empire of China would be swallowed up by 
an earthquake, it would not disturb his night's rest, 
so much as the certainty, that, at the same hour, 
he himself would be obliged to undergo the ampu- 
tation of his little finger. It seems to be a law of 
our nature, intended perhaps for our preservation-, 
that little evils, coining home to ourselves, should 
affect us more than great evils, at a distance, hap- 
pening to others ; but they must be evils that we 
cannot prevent, and over which we have no control ; 
for perhaps, there is no man who would not lose a 
little finger to save China. It has been also 
remarked, that if a state criminal were to be exe- 
cuted opposite the doors of the theatre, at the mo- 
ment of the performance of the deepest tragedy, 
the emptiness of the house, and the sudden aban- 
donment of the seats, would immediately testify, 
how much more we are interested by witnessing 
real misery than artificial. The result of such an 
experiment would probably be this, that the galle- 
ries would be wholly deserted, and the boxes in 
part, but that the far greater part of the portion 
of the audience in the pit would keep their stations ; 
for the extremes of luxury,* on the one hand, and 

* It was from the pavilion of pleasure and enjoyment 
that the Fourteenth Louis sent out his orders for the devas- 
tation of the whole Palatinate; and it was from the bowl 
and the banquet, that Nero issued forth to fiddle to the 
flames of Rome; and, on the contrary, it was from the 
loathsome bed of a most foul and ineurable disease tha 
Herod decreed the assassination of the Jewish nobility; 
and Tippoo Saib ordered the murder of a corps of Chris- 
tian slaves, the most cruel act of his cruel life, at a moment 
when he justly anticipated his own death, and the coafia? 
gration of his capital. 



LAGO X . 1T3 

of misery on the ether, have a decided tendency to 
harden the human mind : the middle class, inas- 
much as it is equally removed from both these 
extremes, seems to be that particular meridian, 
under which all the kindlier affections, and the finer 
sensibilities of our nature most readily flourish and 
abound. Even if the theatre were wholly emptied 
on such an occasion as that which I have noticed 
above, it would not appear that we should be war- 
ranted in affirming, that we are creatures so consti- 
tuted as to derive happiness, not only from our own 
pleasures, but from another's pains. For sympa- 
thy, in some temperaments, will produce the same 
conduct with insensibility in others, and the 
effects will be similar, although the causes that pro- 
duce them will be opposite. The famous ; ama- 
teur Anglais? who crossed the channel to witness 
an execution at Paris, was never suspected of a 
want of feeling ; but the servant girl, recorded by 
Swift, who walked seven miles in a torrent of rain, 
to see a criminal hanged, and returned crying and 
sobbing because the man was reprieved, may with- 
out any breach of Christian charity, be accused of 
a total want of compassion and benevolence. 



Analogy, although it is not infallible, is yet that 
telescope of the mind by which it is marvellously 
assisted in the discovery of both physical and 
moral truth. Analogy has much in store for men; 
but babes require milk, and there may be intellec- 
tual food which the present state of society is not 
fit to partake of ; to lay such before it, would be as 
absurd as to give a quadrant to an Indian, or a 
loom to a Hottentot. There is a time for all 
things, and it was necessary that a certain state of 
)5* 



!74 LACOJS. 

civilization and refinement should precede, and as 
it were, prepare the human mind for the reception 
even of the noblest gift it has ever received, the 
law of God revealed by Christianity. Socrates 
was termed a Christian, born some centuries before 
his time. A state of society like the present, 
obscured by selfishness, and disturbed by warfare, 
presents a medium almost impervious to the ray . 
of moral truth ; the muddy sediment must subside, 
and the tempest must cease, before the sun can 
illuminate the lake. I foresee the period, when 
some new and parent idea in morals, the matrix of 
a better order of things, shall reconcile us more 
completely to God, to nature, and to ourselves. 
In physics, there are many discoveries already 
made, too powerful to be safe, too unmanageable 
to be subservient. Like the behemoth, described 
by Job, who could neither be tamed to render sport 
for the maidens, nor to bend his neck to the plough, 
so these discoveries in physics have not yet been 
subdued by any hand bold enough to apply them, 
either to the elegancies, or to the necessities of 
life. Let any man reflect on the revolution pro- 
duced in society by two simple and common things, 
glass and gunpowder. What then ? Shall some 
discoveries in physics be so important as to pro- 
duce a complete revolution in society, and others 
so powerful that the very inventors of them have 
not as yet dared to apply them, and shall not dis- 
coveries in morals be allowed a still more para- 
mount and universal influence ; an influence the 
greater, in proportion as matter is inferior to mind ? 
For we must remember that analogy was that 
powerful engine, which in the mind of a Newton 
discovered to us the laws of all other worlds ; and 



lacojs. m 

in that of a Columbus put us in full possession of 
our own. 



Society, like a shaded silk, must be viewed in 
all situations, or its colours will deceive us. — Gold- 
smith observed, that one man who travels through 
Europe on foot, and who, like Scriblerus, makes 
his legs his compasses, and another who is whisked 
through in a chaise and four, will form very differ- 
ent conclusions, at the end of their journey. The 
philosopher, therefore, will draw his estimate of 
human nature, by varying as much as possible his 
own situation, to multiply the points of view under 
which he observes her. Uncireumscribed by lines 
of latitude or of longitude, he will examine her 
buttoned up and laced in the forms and ceremonies 
of civilization, and at her ease, unrestrained, in the 
light and feathered costume of the savage. He will 
also associate with the highest without servility, 
and with the lowest without vulgarity. In short, 
in the grand theatre of human life, he will visit the 
pit and the gallery, as well as the boxes, but he 
will not inform the boxes that he comes amongst 
them from the pit, nor the pit that he visits them 
from the gallery. 



A second profession seldom succeeds, not be- 
cause a man may not make himself fully equal to 
its duties, but because the world will not readily 
believe he is so. The world argue thus ; he that 
has failed in his first profession, to which he dedi- 
cated the morning of his life, and the spring-time 
of his exertions, is not the most likely person to 
master a second. To this it may be replied, that 
a man's first profession is often chosen for him by 



170 L A C O N . 

others ; his second, ho usually decides upon for 
himself; therefore, his failure in his first profes- 
sion may for what they know, be mainly owing to 
the secret but sincere attentions he Was constantly 
paying to his second ; and in this case he may bo 
compared to those who having suffered others to 
prescribe to them a wife, have taken the liberty to 
consult themselves in the choice of a mistress. 



It has been well observed, that the tongue dis- 
covers the state of the mind, no less than that 
of the body; but, in either case before the philo- 
sopher or the physician can judge, the patient 
must open his mouth. Some men envelop them- 
selves in such an impenetrable cloak of silence, 
that the tongue will afford us no symptoms of 
the temperament of the mind. Such taciturnity, 
indeed, is wise if they are fools, but foolish if the)? 
arc wise ; and the only method to form a judgment 
of these mutes, is narrowly to observe when, 
where, and how, they smile. It shows much more 
stupidity to be grave at a good thing, than to be 
merry at a bad one ; and of all ignorance, that 
which is silent, is the least productive, for praters 
may suggest an idea if they cannot start one. 

The labouring classes of the community, in the 
metropolis, are vastly inferior, in point of intellect, 
to the same order of society in the country. The 
mind of the city artificer is mechanized by his 
constant attention to one single object; an atten- 
tion into which he is of necessity drilled and dis- 
ciplined by the minute subdivision of labour, which 
improves, I admit, the art, but debilitates the artist, 
and converts the man into a mere breathing pan 



L A C X . 177 

of that machinery by which he works. The rustic, 
on the contrary, who is obliged to turn his hand to 
everything., and must often make his tool before he 
can use it, is pregnant with invention, and fertile 
in resource. It is true, that by a combination 
of their different employments, the city artificers 
produce specimens in their respective vocations, 
far superior to the best efforts of the rustics. But 
if, from the effects of systematic co?nbination, the 
cits infer an individual superiority, they are wofully 
deceived. 



The society of dead authors has this advantage 
over that of the living, they never flatter us to our 
faces, slander us behind our backs, intrude upon 
our privacy, or quit their shelves until we take 
them down. Besides, it is always easy to shut a 
book, but not quite so easy to get rid of a lettered 
coxcomb. Living authors therefore are often bad 
companions ; if they have not gained a character, 
they seek to do so, by methods often ridiculous, 
always disgusting ; and if they have established a 
character, they are silent, for fear of losing by 
their tongue what they have acquired by their 
pen ; many authors converse much more foolishly 
than Goldsmith. w r ho have never written half so 
well. 



If you would be known and not know, vegetate 
in a village ; if you would know, and not be known, 
live in a city. 



That modes of government have much more to 
do with the formation of national character, than 
soils, suns and climates, is sufficiently evident 



J7S LAC ON. 

from the present, stale of Greece and Rome corn 
pared with the ancient. Give these nations hack 
their former governments, and all their national 
energies would return, and enable them to accom- 
modate themselves to any conceivable change of 
climate ; but no conceivable change of climate 
would enable them to recover their former energies. 
In fact, so powerful are all the causes that are 
connected with changes in their governments, that 
they have sometimes made whole nations alter as 
suddenly and as capriciously as individuals. The 
Romans laid down their liberties at the feet of 
Nero, who would not even lend them to Cesar ; 
and we have lately seen the whole French nation 
rush, as one man, from the very extremes of loyalty, 
to behead the mildest monarch that ever ruled 
them ; and conclude a sanguinary career of plun- 
der, by pardoning and renewing a tyrant, to whom 
their blood was but water, and their groans but 
wind ; thus they sacrificed one, a martyr to his 
clemency, and they rewarded another, who lives to 
boast of his murders. 



He that gives a portion of his time and talent to 
the investigation of mathematical truth, will come 
to all other questions with a decided advantage 
over his opponents. He will be in argument what 
the ancient Romans were in the field ; to them the 
clay of battle was a day of comparative recreation, 
because they were ever accustomed to exercise 
with arms much heavier than they fought ; and 
their reviews differed from a real battle in twe 
respects, they encountered more fatigue, but ihf 
victory was bloodless. 



L A C O N . 179 

A peace, for the making of which the negociator 
has been the most liberally rewarded, is usually a 
bad peace. He is rewarded on the score of 
having overreached his enemy, and for having 
made a peace, the advantages of which are clearly 
on his own side. Such a peace will not be kept : 
and that is the best peace which is most likely to 
be the firmest. Now, a peace where the advan- 
tages are balanced, and which consults the good 
of both parties, is the firmest, because both par- 
lies are interested in its preservation ; for parch- 
ment bonds, and seals of state, will not restrain a 
discontented nation, that has arms in her hands, 
and knows how to use them. 



Xo men despise physic so much as physicians, 
because no men so thoroughly understand how 
little it can perform. They have been tinkering 
the human constitution four thousand years, in 
order to cure about as many disorders. The result 
is, that mercury and brimstone are the only two 
specifics they have discovered. All the fatal mala- 
dies continue to be what they were in the days of 
Paracelsus, Hippocrates, and Galen, * opprobria 
medico-rum?* It is true that each disorder has a 
thousand prescriptions, but not a single remedy. 
They pour a variety of salts and acids into a mar- 
ble mortar, and expect similar results when these 
agredients are poured into the human stomach: 
>ut what can be so groundless as reasonings built 
m such analogies ?f The marble mortar admits 

* The disgrace of physicians. — Pub. 

+ It is tnore sale to imitate the conduct of the late Dr. 
^bevden. He paid the strictest attention to symptoms, 
Hid temperaments, and having ascertained these, to the 



ISO LAC Off. 

the agency of atmospherical air, which cannot be 
said of the human stomach ; and, again, the stom- 
ach possesses life* and the gastric juice, which 
cannot be said of the marble mortar. 



There are two metals, one of which is compo- 
nent in the cabinet, and the other in the camp — . 
gold and iron. He that knows how to apply them 
both, may indeed attain the highest station, but 
he must know something more, to keep it. It has 
been doubted whether Cromwell, with all his pre- 
tended sanctity, and all his real courage, could 
have maintained his power one year longer, even 
if he had not died on the anniversary of that very 
day, which he had always considered as the most 
fortunate of his life. For Cromwell had also his 
high destinies, and his lucky days. 



Antithesis may be the blossom of wit, but it will 
never arrive at maturity unless sound sense be the 
trunk, and truth the root. 

best of his judgment, he prescribed such remedies as he 
had always observed to be beneficial to others under similar 
circumstances ; ond what was of still greater consequence, 
he carefully avoided what long experience had taught him 
would do harm. Here he stopped, for he was not so pre- 
sumptuous as to frame theories to explain the why, and the 
wherefore, this did harm, or that did good; he was too 
much occupied in things of greater importance, well know- 
ing that the wisest of us know nothing of life, but by its 
effects, and that the consequences of every prescription, 
are far more clear and apparent, than the causes that pro- 
duce them. 

* The gastric juice will not act upon a living stomach, 
although it will rapidly de-compose a dead one. 



LA CON. 131 

Posthumous charities are the very essence of 
selfishness, when bequeathed by those, who when 
alive, would part with nothing. In Catholic coun- 
tries there is no mortmain act; and those w 7 ho, 
when dying, empoverish their relations by leaving 
tneir fortunes to he expended in masses for them- 
selves, have been shrewdly said to leave their own 
souls their heirs. 



The science of the mathematics performs more 
than it promises, but the science of metaphysics 
pi onuses more than it performs. The study of the 
mathematics, like the Nile, begins in minuteness, 
but ends in magnificence ; but the study of meta- 
physics begins with a torrent of tropes, and a copi- 
ous current of words ; yet loses itself at last in 
obscurity and conjecture, like the Niger in his bar- 
ren deserts of sand. 



To be continually subject to the breath of slan- 
der, will tarnish the purest virtue, as a constant 
exposure to the atmosphere will obscure the bright- 
ness of the finest gold ; but in either case, the real 
value of both continues the same, although the 
currency may be somewhat impeded. 

The mob is a monster with the hands of Bria- 
reus, but the head of Polyphemus — strong to exe- 
cute, but blind to perceive. 



When we apply to the conduct of the ancient 
Romans, the pure and unbending principles of 
Chri stianity, we try those noble delinquents unjustly, 
inasmuch as we condemn them by the severe sen- 
tence of an ' ex post facto 1 law. 
16 



182 LACON. 

Strong as our passions are> they may be starved 
into submission, and conquered without being 
killed. 



Great men, like great cities, have many crooked 
arts and dark alleys in their hearts, whereby ho 
that knows them may save himself much time and 
trouble. 



There are some men who are fortune's favour- 
ites, and who, like cats, light forever upon their 
legs ; didappers, whom if you had stripped naked 
and thrown over Westminster bridge, you might 
meet on the very next day, with bag-wigs on their 
heads, swords by their sides, laced coats upon their 
backs, and money in their pockets. 



We may doubt of the existence of matter, if we 
please, and, like Berkely, deny it, without subject- 
ing ourselves to the shame of a very conclusive 
confutation ; but there is this remarkable difference 
between matter and mind ; he that doubts the ex- 
istence of mind, by doubting, proves it. 



The policy of drawing a public revenue from the 
private vices of drinking and of gaming, is as pur- 
blind as it is pernicious ; for temperate men drink 
the most, because they drink the longest ; and a 
gamester contributes much less to the revenue than 
the industrious, because he is much sooner ruined. 
When Mandeville maintained that private vices 
were public benefits, he did not calculate the widely 
destructive influence of bad example. To affirm 
that a vicious man is only his own enemy, is aboul 



L.AUO N 183 

as wise as to affirm that a virtuous man is only his 
own friend. 



Russia, like the elephant, is rather unwieldy in 
attacking others, but most formidable in defending 
herself. She proposes this dilemma to all inva- 
ders — a dilemma that Napoleon discovered too late. 
The horns of it are short and simple, but strong. 
Come unto me with few, and I voill overwhelm you ; 
come to me with many, and you shall overwhelm your- 
selves. 



The art of destruction seems to have proceeded 
geometrically, while the art of preservation cannot 
be said to have advanced even in a plain arithmet- 
ical progression ; for there are but two specifics 
known that will infallibly cure their two respective 
diseases. The modes of destroying life have 
increased so rapidly, that conquerors have not to 
consider how to murder men, but out of the num- 
berless methods invented, are only puzzled which 
to choose. If any nation should hereafter dis- 
cover a new mode of more inevitable destruction to 
its enemies, than is yet known, (and some late ex- 
periments in chymistry make this supposition far 
from improbable), it would, in that case, become 
absolutely necessary for all neighbouring nations to 
attempt a similar discovery ; or that nation, which 
continued in sole possession of so tremendous a 
secret, would, like the serpent of Aaron, swallow 
up all the neighbouring nations, and ultimately sub- 
jugate the world. Let such a secret be at once 
known by any particular nation, and by the activity 
of all neighbouring states, in every possible effort 
of vigilant and sleepless espionage, and by the 



184 LAC ON. 

immense rewards proposed for information, man 
kind would soon perceive which of the two arts 
government considered of the greatest consequence 
— the art of preservation or that of destruction. 
If indeed, any new and salutary mode of preserv- 
ing life were discovered, such a discovery would 
not awaken the jealousy, nor become in any degree, 
such a stimulus to the inventive faculties of other 
nations, as the art of destruction ; princes and 
potentates would look on with indifference; the 
progress of such discoveries has always been slow, 
and their salutary consequences remote and preca- 
rious. Inoculation was practised in Turkey long 
before it was known in Europe ; and vaccination 
has at this moment many prejudices to contend 
with. The Chinese, who aspire to be thought an 
enlightened nation, to this day are ignorant of the 
circulation of the blood ; and even in England, the 
man who made that noble discovery, lost all his 
practice in consequence of his ingenuity ; Hume 
informs us, that no physician in the United King- 
doms who had attained the age of forty, ever sub- 
mitted to Harvey's theory, but went on preferring 
numpsimus to surnpsimus to the day of his death. 
So true is that line of the satirist, * A fool at forty 
is a fool indeed? and we may also add, on this 
occasion, another line from another satirist: — ■ 

{ Durum est, 
1 Qua juvenes didiccre, senes pcrdenda fateri?* 



There are two things, which united, constitute 
the value of any acquisition, its difficulty and its 

* It is hard for men to think that vorlhlrss, which as boys 
they have tolled to learn. — Pub. 



LAC ON. 185 

utility The bulk of mankind, with Bayes in the 
Rehearsal-, like what will astonish, rather than 
what will improve. Dazzled by the difficulty, 
they examine not the utility ; and he that benefits 
them by some mode which they can comprehend, 
is not so sure of their applause, as the political 
juggler who merely surprises them, they know not 



God is on the side of virtue ; for whoever dreads 
punishment, suffers it, and whoever deserves it, 
dreads it. 



The most disagreeable two-legged animal I know, 
is a little great man, and the next, a little great man's 
factotum and friend. 



There are some men, whose enemies are to be 
pitied much, and their friends more. 



Civil and religious freedom go hand in hand, and 
in no country can much of the one long exist, with- 
out producing a corresponding portion of the other. 
No despotism, therefore, is so complete, as that 
which imposes ecclesiastical as well as political 
restrictions ; and those tyrants in Christendom, 
who discourage popery, have learned but half their 
lesson. Provided tyrants will assist her in fettering 
the mind, she will most readily assist them in en- 
slaving the body. 



There are some persons whose erudition so much 

outweighs their observation, and who have read so 

much, and reflected so little, that they will not 

hazard the most familiar truism, or common-place 

16* 






186 LACQ N . 

allegation, without bolstering up their rickety judg- 
ments* in the swaddling bands of antiquity, their 
doating nurse and preceptress. — Thus, they will not 
be satisfied to say that content is a blessing, that 
time is a treasure, or that self-knowledge is to be 
desired, without quoting Aristotle, Thales, or Cle- 
obulus ; and yet these very men, if they met ano- 
ther walking in noonday by the smoky light of a 
lantern, would be the first to stop and ridicule such 
conduct, but the last to recognise in his folly, their 
own. 



Mystery magnifies danger, as the fog the sun. 
The hand thatunnerved Belshazzer derived its most 
horrifying influence from the want of a body ; and 
death itself is not formidable in what we know of 
it, but in what we do not. 

Levity is often less foolish, and gravity less wise, 
than each of them appear. 



Revenge is a fever in our own blood, to be cured 
only by letting the blood of another ; but the 
remedy too often produces a relapse, which is re- 
morse — a malady far more dreadful than the first 
disease, because it is incurable. 



Afflictions sent by Providence, melt the con- 
stancy of the noble minded, but confirm the obdu- 
racy of the vile. The same furnace that hardens 
clay, liquefies gold ; and in the strong manifestations 
of divine power, Pharaoh found his punishment, 
but David his pardon. 



LACON. 187 

When young, Ave trust ourselves too much, and 
we trust others too little when old. Rashness is 
the error of youth, timid caution of age. Man- 
hood is the isthmus between the two extremes : 
the ripe, the fertile season of action, when alone 
we can hope to find the head to contrive, united 
with the hand to execute. 



The French nation despises all other nations, 
except the English ; we have the honour of her 
hate, only because she cannot despise us. 

The firmest friendships have been formed in 
mutual adversity, as iron is most strongly united 
by the fiercest flame. 



Neutrality is no favourite with Providence, for 
Ave are so formed that it is scarcely possible for 
us to stand neuter in our hearts, although we may 
deem it prudent to appear so in our actions. 



Religion, like its votaries, Avhile it exists on earth, 
must have a body as Avell as a soul. A religion 
purely spiritual, might suit a being as pure, but 
men are compound animals ; and the body too of- 
ten lords it over the mind. 

Secrecy has been Avell termed the soul of all 
great designs ; perhaps more has been effected by 
concealing our own intentions, than by discovering 
those of our enemy. But great men succeed in 
both. 

Always look at those whom you are talking to % 
never at those vou are talking of. 



188 LACON. 

There are some truths, the force and validity of 
which we readily admit, in all cases except oui 
own ; and there are other truths so self-evident that 
we dare not deny them, but so dreadful that we 
dare not believe them. 



Many speak the truth, when they say that they 
despis-e riches and preferment, but they mean the 
riches and preferment possessed by other men. 



If the weakness of the head, were an admissible 
excuse for the malevolence of the heart, the one 
half of mankind would be occupied in aggression, 
and the other half in forgiveness ; but the inte- 
rests of society peremptorily demand that things 
should not be so ; for a fool is often as dangerous 
to deal with as a knave, and always more incorri- 
gible. 



There are prating coxcombs in the world, who 
would rather talk than listen, although Shakspeare 
himself were the orator, and human nature the 
theme ! 



The greatest professor and proficient in any 
science, loves it not so sincerely as to be fully 
pleased with any finer effort in it than he can him 
self produce. The feeling excited on such an 
occasion, is a mixed sensation of envy, delight, and 
despair ; but the bitters here are as two, the sweets 
but as one. 



Gaming is the child of avarice, but the parent 
of prodigality. 



LA CON. 189 

Never join with your friend when he abuses his 
horse, or his wife, unless the one is about to be 
sold, and the other buried. 



Husbands cannot be pri?icipals m their own 
cuckoldom, but they are parties to it much more 
often than they themselves imagine. 



Professors in every branch of the sciences pre- 
fer their own theories to truth : the reason is, that 
their theories are private property, but truth is com- 
mon stock. 



It is dangerous to be much praised in private 
circles, before our reputation is fully established in 
the world. 



Many designing men, by asking small favours, 
and evincing great gratitude, have eventually obtain- 
ed the most important ones. There is something 
in the human mind (perhaps the force of habit,) 
which strongly inclines us to continue to oblige 
those whom we have begun to oblige, and to injure 
those whom we have begun to injure ; ' eo injurio- 
sior quia nocuerat?* 



Law and equity are two things which God hath 
joined, but which man hath put asunder. 

It is safer to be attacked by some men, than to 
be protected by them. 

• The greater enemy because he had already injured.— Pua 



199 L A (J O Sf . 

Persecuting bigots maybe compared to those 
burning lenses which Leuhenhoeck and others 
composed from ice ; by their chilling apathy, they 
freeze the suppliant ; by their fiery zeal, they burn 
the sufferer. 



As the rays of the sun, notwithstanding their 
velocity, injure not the eye, by reason of their 
minuteness, so the attacks of envy, notwithstand- 
ing their number, ought not to wound our virtue by 
reason of their insignificance. 



There is a holy love, and a holy rage ; and our 
best virtues never glow so brightly as when out 
passions are excited in the cause. Sloth, if it has 
prevented many crimes, has also smothered many 
virtues, and the best of us are better when roused 
Passion is to virtue, what wine was to iEschylus 
and to Ennius, under its inspiration their powers 
were at their height. 



Fear debilitates and lowers, but hope animates 
and revives ; therefore rulers and magistrates should 
attempt to operate on the minds of their respective 
subjects, if possible, by reward rather than punish- 
ment. And this principle will be strengthened by 
another consideration ; he that is punished of 
rewarded, while he falls or rises in the estimation 
of others, cannon fail to do so likewise in his own. 



Men pursue riches under the idea that their pos- 
session will set them at ease, and above the world. 
But the law of association often makes those who 
begin by loving gold as a servant, finish by become 



sm 



LAOON, 191 

lag themselves its slave ; and independence with- 
out wealth, is at least as common as wealth without 
independence. 



If St. Paul were again to appear on earth, since 
all the multifarious denominations of Christians 
w T ould claim him, which would he choose 1 The 
apostle James shall answer : J Pure religion and 
undefiled before God and the Father, is this : to visit 
the fatherless and ividows in their affliction, and to 
keep himself unspotted from the world? 



Grant graciously what you cannot refuse safely, 
and conciliate those you cannot conquer. 



There are politic friendships which knaves find 
it necessary to keep up with those whom they mean 
the more effectually to ruin ; for most men may be 
led to their destruction, few can be driven. Had 
Talleyrand's enmity to Napoleon manifested itself 
in opposition, it would have been fatal, not to his 
master, but to himself; he maintained, therefore, a 
friendship that not only aggrandized himself, but 
opened a door for the communication of that advice 
that enabled him eventually to ruin his master. 



The martyrs to vice, far exceed the martyrs to 
virtue, both in endurance and in number. So blinded 
are we by our passions, that we suffer more to be 
damned than to be saved. 



Demagogues, however fond they may affect to 
be of independence and liberty in their public 
speeches, aie invariably tories in their private 
actions, and despots in their own families. The 



102 LACON. 

most violent of them have usually been formed by 
the refusal of some unreasonable request ; and their 
patriotism appears in a very questionable shape, 
when we see that they rejoice in just as much pub- 
lic calamity as introduces them into power, and 
supplants their rivals.* 



Restorations disappoint the loyal. If princes at 
such times, have much to give, they have also much 
to gain ; and policy dictates the necessity of be- 
stowing rather to conciliate enemies, than to reward 
friend s.f 

* The real difference, therefore, between a tory and a 
v I;ig would seem to be this: the one has power, the other 
wants it. f ■• <iuel Johnson was not a tetUe disconcerted by 
an unexpected retort made upon him before a large party at 
Oxford^by Dr. Crowe. The principles of our lexicogra- 
pher ran with too much violence in one way, not to foam a 
little when they met with a current running equally strong 
in another. The dispute happened to turn upon the origin 
of whiggism, for Johnson had triumphantly challenged Dr. 
Crowe to tell him who was the first whig ; the latter find- 
ing himself a little puzzled, Dr. Johnson tauntingly rejoin- 
ed, { I see, sir, that you are even ignorant of the head of your 
own party, but I will tell you, sir: the devil was the* first 
whig ; he was the first reformer ; he wanted to set up a re- 
form even in heaven.' Dr. Crowe calmly replied, 'I am 
much obliged to you for your information, and I certainly 
did not foresee that you would go so far back for your au- 
thority ; yet I rather fear that your argument makes against 
yourself; for if the devil was a whig, you have admitted 
"that while he was a whig, he was in heaven, but you have 
forgotten that the moment he got into hell, he set up for a 
tory.' 

t The amnesty act of Charles the Second was termed an 
act of oblivion to his friends, but of grateful remembrance 
to his foes. And on another occasion, the loyalty of the 
brave Crillon was not strengthened by any reward, only 
because it was considered too firm to be shaken by any 
neglect. 



LA CON. 193 

In our attempt to deceive the world, those are 
ihe most likely to detect us, who are sailing on the 
same tack. 



None know how to draw long bills on futurity, 
thai never will be honoured, better than Mahomet. 
lie possessed himself of a large stock of real and 
present pleasure and power here, by promising a 
visionary quantum of those good things to his fol- 
lowers hereafter ; and like the maker of an alma- 
nack, made his fortune in this world, by telling 
absurd lies about another. 



There are three things, that, well understood, 
and conscientiously practised, would save the 
three professions a vast deal of trouble ; but we 
must not expect that every member of the profes- 
sions would thank us for such a discovery, for 
some of them have too much time upon their 
hands ; and a philosopher would be more inclined 
to smile than to wonder, should he now and then 
hear a physician crying down regimen ; a lawyer 
equity ; or a priest, morality. 



We are ruined, not by what we really want, but 
by what we think we do ; therefore, never go 
abroad in search of your wants, if they be real 
wants, they will come home in search of you ; for 
he that buys what he does not want, will soon 
want what he cannot buy. 

No two things differ more than hurry and de- 
spatch. Hurry is the mark of a weak mind, de- 
spatch of a strong one. A weak man in office, like 
a squirrel in a cage, is labouring eternally , but to no 
17 



194 LACON. 

purpose, and in constant motion without getting on 
a jot ; like a turnstile, he is in every body's way, 
but stops nobody ; he talks a great deal, but says 
very little ; looks into every thing but sees into 
nothing ; and has a hundred irons in the fire, but 
very few of them are hot, and with those few that 
are, he only burns his fingers. 



If none were to reprove the vicious, excepting 
those who sincerely hate vice, there would be 
much less censoriousness in the world. Our Mas- 
ter could love the criminal while he hated the 
crime, but we his disciples, too often love the 
crime but hate the criminal. A perfect knowledge 
of the depravity of the human heart, with perfect 
pity for the infirmities of it, never co-existed but 
in one breast, and never will. 



Rats and conquerors must expect no mercy in 
misfortune. 



Hesitation is a sign of weakness, for inasmuch 
as the comparative good and evil of the differen 
modes of action, about which we hesitate, are sel- 
dom equally balanced, a strong mind should per- 
ceive the slightest inclination of the beam, with the 
glance of an eagle, particularly as there are cases 
where the preponderance will be very minute, even 
although there should be life in one scale, and death 
in the other. It is recorded of the late Earl of 
Berkely, that he was suddenly awakened at night 
in his carriage by a highwayman, who forcing a 
pistol through the window and presenting it close 
to his breast, demanded his money, exclaiming at 
the same time, that he had heard his lordship had 



L A C O N . 195 

boasted that he never would be robbed by a single 
highwayman, but that he should now be taught the 
contrary. His lordship putting his hand into his 
pocket, replied : \ Neither would I now be robbed, 
if it was not for that fellow who is looking over 
your shoulder.' The highwayman turned round 
his head, when his lordship, who had drawn a 
pistol from his pocket, instead of a purse, shot 
him on the spot. 



Some are so censorious as to advance, that 
those who have discovered a thorough knowledge 
of all the depravity of the human heart, must be 
themselves depraved ; but this is about as wise as 
to affirm that every physician who understands a 
disease, must be himself diseased. 



The learned have often amused themselves by 
publishing the follies of the dunces ; but if the 
dunces would retaliate by publishing the blunders 
of the learned, they might for once put forth a 
volume that would not be dull, although it would be 
large. Dr. Johnson, when publishing his diction- 
ary, requested through the medium of one of the 
journals, the etymology of curmudgeon. Some one 
shortly afterwards answered the doctor's advertise- 
ment, by observing that it was in all probability 
derived from cozur mechant ; these words he did 
not think it necessary to translate, but merely put 
as his signature, 'An unknown correspondent? A 
brother lexicographer, who was also preparing a 
dictionary, got to press before the doctor, and inge- 
niously, as he thought, forestalled him in the article 



196 LAC ON. 

of curmudgeon j where to the no small amusement 
of all etymologists, he had thus derived It, ' cur- 
mudgeon, from coeur mediant, an unknown cones- 
pondeni • //' 



The profoundly wise do not declaim against 
superficial* knowledge in others, so much as the 
profoundly ignorant ; on the contrary, they would 
rather assist it wim their advice than overwhelm 
it with their contempt, for they know that there 
was a period when even a Bacon or a Newton 
w r as superficial, and that he who has a little 
knowledge is far more likely to get more than he 
that has none. "When the great Harvey was 
whipped at school for an experiment upon a cat, Ins 
Orbilius could not foresee in the little urchin that 
he was flagellating, the future discoverer of the cir- 
culation of the blood. The progress of the mind 
in science, is not very unlike the progress of sci- 
ence herself in experiment. When the air-balloon 
w T as first discovered, some one flippantly asked Dr. 
Franklin what was the use of it ? The doctor 
answered this question by asking another: ' What 

* Desperately wounded, and at a fearful distance from 
all surgical help, I owe my own life, under Providence, to 
a slight smattering in anatomy, by which / knew that the 
pressure of the finger close to the clavis wtsflftd effectually 
stop the whole circulation of the arm ; but this served my 
purpose at that time, as well as if 1 had t jen sufficiently 
skilled in the science, to be the demonstrator to a Cline or 
a Brodie. I cannot express my gratitude better to. those 
very able and skilful surgeons who attended me on that 
occasion, than by saying that their success has ex:ited the 
astonishment of some of the most eminent pra^tU'crc^ in 
this metropolis, who have also expressed their tiouh/^^n 
as to the attempt of savin? the limb, had sueh mi a.\ U*»»t 
occurred in London. 



LAC OX. 197 

is the use of a new-born infant ? It may become a 
man.'' 



When I hear persons gravely affirm that they 
have made up their minds to forego this or that 
improper enjoyment, I often think in myself that 
it would be quite as prudent, if they could also 
make up their bodies as well. Falstaff would have 
been as abstemious at the banquet as a hermit, 
and as firm in the battle as a hero, if he could have 
but gained over the consent of his belly in the one 
case, and of his legs in the other. He that strives 
for the mastery, must join a well-disciplined body, 
to a well-regulated mind ; for with mind and body, 
as with man and wife, it often happens that the 
stronger vessel is ruled by the weaker, although 
in moral, as in domestic economy, matters are best 
conducted, where neither parties are unreasonable, 
and where both are agreed. 



Those who visit foreign nations, but w r ho asso- 
ciate only with their own countrymen, change 
their climate, but not their customs, ' cozlum non 
animum mutant ;'* they see new meridians, but the 
same men, and with heads as empty as their 
pockets, return home, with travelled bodies, but 
imtra veiled minds. 



Conversation is the music of the mind, an intel- 
lectual orchestra, where all the instruments should 
bear a part, but where none should play together. 
Each of the performers should have a just appre- 

* They change their climate, not their character. — Pub, 



198 LA, CON. 

elation, of his own powers, otherwise an unskiliu, 
novice, who might usurp the first fiddle, would 
infallibly get into a scrape. To prevent these mis- 
takes, a good master of the hand will be very par- 
ticular in the assortment of the performers, i^ too 
dissimilar, there will be no harmony, if too few, 
there will be no variety; and if too numerous, 
there will be no order, for the presumption of one 
prater,* might silence the eloquence of a Burke, or 
the wit of a Sheridan, as a single kettledrum would 
drown the finest solo of a Gionowich or a Jordini. 



Man is an imbodied paradox, a bundle of con- 
tradictions ; and as some set-off against the mar- 
vellous things that he has done, we might fairly 
adduce the monstrous things that he has believed. 
The more gross the fraud,f the more glibly will it 
go down, and the more greedily will it be swal- 
lowed, since folly will always find faith wherever 
impostors will find impudence. 



Although the majority of the inhabitants of Lon- 
don will stop to gaze at the merest trifles, will be 
amused by the heaviest efforts of dulness, and will 
believe their grossest absurdities, though they are 

* Butler compared the tongues of these eternal talkers to 
racehorses, which go the faster the less weight they carry ; 
and Cumberland has observed, that they take possession 
of a subject as a highwayman does of a purse, without 
knowing its contents, or caring to whom it belongs. 

t Who could have supposed that such a wretch as Joan- 
na Southcote could have gained numerous and wealthy 
proselytes, in the nineteenth century, in an era of general 
illumination, and in the first metropolis of the world 1 I 
answer, none but philosophers, whose creed it is ' nil admU 
rarif when the folly of mankind is the subject. 



LA (J ON, 390 

the dupes of all that is designing abroad, or con- 
temptible at home, yet, by residing in this wonder 
ful metropolis, let not the wisest man presume to 
Jiink that he shall not add to his wisdom, nor the 
most experienced man to his experience. 



He that dies a martyr, proves that he was not a 
knave, but by no means that he was not a fool ; 
since the most absurd doctrines are not without 
such evidence as martyrdom can produce. A 
martyr, therefore, by the mere act of suffering, 
ca-n prove nothing but his own faith. If, as was 
the case of the primitive Christian martyrs, it 
should clearly appear that the sufferer could not 
have been himself deceived, then, indeed, the evi- 
dence rises high, because the act of martyrdom 
absolves him from the charge of wilfully deceiving 
others. 



Of governments, that of the mob is the most san- 
guinary, that of soldiers the most expensive, and 
that of civilians the most vexatious. 



When a man has displayed talent in some partic- 
ular path, and left all competitors behind him in it, 
the w T orld are too apt to give him credit for a univer- 
sality of genius, and to anticipate for him success 
in all that he undertakes. But to appear qualified 
to fill the department of another, is much more easy, 
than really to master our own ; and those who have 
succeeded in one profession, have seldom been able 
to afford the time necessary to the fully understand- 
ing of a second. Cromwell could manage men, but 



200 LAOON. 

when lie attempted to manage horses,* he encoun- 
tered more danger than in all his battles, and nar- 
rowly escaped with his life. Neither can we admit 
that definition of genius that some would propose, 
' a power to accomplish all that we undertake/ for 
we might multiply examples to prove that this defi- 
nition of genius contains more than the thing 
defined, for Cicero failed in poetry, Pope in paint- 
ing, Addison in oratory, yet it would be harsh to 
deny genius to these men. As a man cannot be 
fairly termed a poor man, who has a large property 
in the funds, but nothing in land, so we cannot deny 
genius to those who have discovered a rich vein in 
one province of literature, but poverty of talent in 
another. This tendency, however, to ascribe a 
universality of genius to great men, left Dryden to 
affirm, on the strength of two smart satirical lines, 
that Virgil could have written a satire equal to Juve- 
nal. But with all due deference to Dryden, I con- 
ceive it much more manifest, that Juvenal could 
have written a better epic than Virgil, than that 

* Nero made a similar mistake ; but he proved himself 
as unequal to the task of governing horses as of men, and as 
unfit to hold the reins of a chariot, as of a kingdom : he 
made his appearance at the hippodrome of Olympia, in a 
chariot drawn by ten horses, although he himself had for- 
merly censured Mithridates for the same temerity; he was 
thrown from his seat, but unfortunately the fall was not 
fatal, although it prevented him from finishing the race ; 
nevertheless, the halladonics, or stewards of the course, 
proclaimed the emperor victor, and assigned him the Olym- 
pic crown, for which upright decision they were rewarded 
with a magnificent present. Galba, however, obliged them 
afterwards to refund it, and they themselves, partly from 
shame, and partly from pique, erased that Olympiad oul 
of the calendar. 



L A C O N . 201 

Virgil could have written a satire equal to Juvenal. 
Juvenal has many passages of the moral sublime 
far superior to any that can be found in Vhgil, who 
indeed, seldom attempts a higher flight than the 
sublime of description. Had Lucan lived, he 
might have rivalled them both, as he has all the 
vigour of the one, and time might have furnished 
him with the taste and elegance of the other. 



Horace makes an awkward figure in his vain 
attempt to unite his real character of sycophant, 
with the assumed one of the satirist. ; he sometimes 
attempts to preach down vice, without virtue, some- 
times to laugh it down, without wit. His object 
was to be patronised by a court, without meanness, 
if possible, but at all events, to be patronised. He 
served the times more, perhaps, than the times served 
him, and instead of forming the manners of his 
superiors, he himself was in great measure formed 
by them. In fact, no two men who have handled 
the same subject, differ so completely, both in 
character and in style, as Horace and Juvenal; to 
the latter may be applied what Seneca said of Cato, 
that he gained as complete a triumph over the vices 
of his country, as Scipio did over the enemies of it. 
Had Juvenal lived in the days of Horace, he would 
have written much better, because much bolder ; 
but had Horace lived in the time of Juvenal, he 
would not have dared to have written a satire at 
all; in attacking the false friends of his country, 
he would have manifested the same pusillanimity 
which he himself informs us he discovered, when 
he on one occasion, ventured to attack her real 
foes. 



§03 LACON, 

Shrewd and crafty politicians, when they wish to 
bring about an unpopular measure, must not go 
straight forward to work, if they do they will cer- 
tainly fail ; and failures to men in power, are like 
defeats to a general, they shake their popularity. 
Therefore, since they cannot sail in the teeth of the 
wind, they must tack, and ultimately gain their 
object, by appearing at times to be departing from 
it. Mr. Pitt, at a moment when the greatest jeal- 
ousy existed in the country, on the subject of the 
freedom of the press, inflicted a mortal blow on this 
guardian of our liberties, without seeming to touch, 
or even to aim at it ; he doubled the tax upon all 
advertisements, and this single act immediately 
knocked up the host of pamphleteers, who formed 
the sharpshooters and tirailleurs of literature, and 
whose fire struck more terror into administration 
than the heaviest cannonade from bulky quarto es or 
folios could produce ; the former were ready for 
the moment, but before the latter could be loaded 
and brought to bear, the object was either changed 
or removed, and had ceased to awaken the jeal- 
ousies, or to excite the fears of the nation. 



That extremes beget extremes, is an apothegm 
built on the most profound observation of the human 
mind ; and its truth is in nothing more apparent 
than in those moral phenomena, perceivable, when 
a nation, inspired by one common sentiment, 
rushes at once from despotism to liberty. To sup- 
pose that a nation under such circumstances should 
confine herself precisely to that middle point, be- 
tween the two extremes of licentiousness and slave- 
ry, in which true liberty consists, were as absurd 
as to suppose that a volcano, nearly suppressed 



LACO.\, 203 

and smothered by the superincumbent weight of a 
mountain, will neither consume itself nor destroy 
what is contiguous, when by an earthquake that 
pressure is suddenly removed ; for it must be 
remembered that despotism degrades and demor- 
alizes the human mind ; and although she at length 
forces men on a just attempt to recover by violence, 
those rights that by violence, were taken away, yet 
that very depravation superinduced by despotism, 
renders men. for a -season. Unfit for the rational 
exercise of those civil rights they have with so 
much hazard regained, At such a crisis, to expect 
that a people should keep the strict unbending path 
of rectitude and reason, without deviating into pri- 
vate rapine or public wfong, were as wise as to 
expect that a horse would walk in a straight line 
immediately on being released from his trammels, 
after having been blinded by a long routine of 
drud^erv in the circle of a mill. 



When men in power profusely reward the intel- 
lectual efforts of individuals in their behalf, what 
are the public to presume from this \ They may 
generally presume that the cause so remunerat-ed 
was a bad one. in the opinions of those who are so 
grateful for its defence. In private life, a client 
will hardly set any bounds to his generosity, should 
his counsel be ingenious enough to gain him a vic- 
tory, not only over his antagonist, but even over the 
laws themselves ; and, in public affairs, we may 
usually infer the weakness of the cause, by the 
excessive price that ministers have freely paid to 
mose whose eloquence, or whose sophistry, ha^ 
enabled them to make that weakness triumph, 



201 LAUUN. 

Much may be done in those little shreds and 
patches of time which every day produces, and 
which most men throw away, but which neverthe- 
less will make at the end of it, no small deduction 
from the life of man. Cicero has termed them 
intercisiva tempora* and the ancients were not ig- 
norant of their value ; nay, it was not unusual with 
them either to compose or to dictate, while under 
the operation of rubbing after the bath. 



Arbitration has this advantage, there are some 
points of contest which it is better to lose by arbi- 
tration than to win by law. But as a good general 
offers his terms before the action, rather than in the 
midst of it, so a wise man will not easily be per- 
suaded to have recourse to a reference, when once 
his opponent has dragged him into a court. 



In death itself there can be nothing terrible, 
for the act of death annihilates sensation ; but 
there are many roads to death, and some of them 
justly formidable, even to the bravest ; so various 
are the modes of going out of the world, that to be 
born, may have been a more painful thing than to 
die, and to live, may prove a more troublesome 
thing than either. 



More have been ruined by their servants, than 
by their masters. 



Love, like the cold bath, is never negative, it 
seldom leaves us where it finds us , if once we 

* Cut up limes. — Pub. 



LAC ON. 205 

plunge into it, it will either heighten our virtues or 
inflame our vices. 



If there be a pleasure on earth, which angels 
cannot enjoy, and which they might almost envy 
man the possession of, it, is the power of relieving 
distress. If there be a pain which devils might 
pity man for enduring, it is the death-bed reflection 
that we have possessed the power of doing good, 
but that we have abused and perverted it to pur- 
poses of ill. 

Public charities, and benevolent associations, for 
the gratuitous relief of every species of distress, 
are peculiar to Christianity ; no other system of 
civil or religious policy has originated them :■ — 
they form its highest praise and characteristic fea- 
ture ; an order of benevolence so disinterested and 
so exalted, looking before and after, could no more 
have preceded revelation than light the sun. 



Applause is the spur of noble minds, the end 
and aim of weak ones. 



In most quarrels there is a fault on both sides. 
A quarrel may be compared to a spark, which can- 
not be produced without a flint as well as a steel, 
either of them may hammer on wood for ever, no 
fire will follow. 

Our wealth is often a snare to ourselves, and 
always a temptation to others. 

To know the pains of power, we must go to 
those who have it ; to know its pleasures, we must 
18 



S06 LAC O N . 

go to those who are seeking it : the pains of power 
are real, its pleasures imaginary. 



Those who are embarked in that greatest of all 
undertakings, the propagation of the gospel, and 
who do so from a thorough conviction of its supe- 
rior utility* and excellence, may indeed fail in sav- 
ing others, but they are engaged in that labour of 
love by which they are most likely to save them- 
selves, particularly if they pray that through God's 
assistance both ends may be obtained. 



Two things, well considered, would prevent 
many quarrels ; first, to have it well ascertained 
whether we are not disputing about terms rather 
than things ; and secondly, to examine whether 
that on which we differ, is worth contending about. 



Faith and works are as necessary to our spirit 
ual life as Christians, as soul and body are to our 
natural life as men ; for faith is the soul of reli- 
gion, and works, the body. 



Solomon has said, ' There is nothing new under 
the sun ;' and perhaps destruction has caused as 
much novelty as invention ; for that is often a re- 
vival which we think a discovery. 



It is an unfortunate thing for fools, that their 
pretensions should rise in an inverse ratio with 
their abilities, and their presumption with their 
weakness ; and for the wise, that diffidence should 
be the companion of talent, and doubt the fruit of 
investigation. 



LA CON. 207 

There are three kinds of praise ; that which we 
yield, that which we lend, and that which we pay. 
We yield it to the powerful from fear, we lend it 
to the weak from interest, and we pay it to the 
deserving from gratitude. 



We generally most covet that particular trust 
which we are least likely to keep. He that tho- 
roughly knows his friends, might, perhaps, with 
safety, confide his wife to the care of one, his 
purse to another, and his secrets to a third ; when 
to permit them to make their own choice, would 
be his ruin. 



Eloquence is the language of nature, and can- 
not be learned in the schools ; the passions are 
powerful pleaders, and their very silence, like that 
of Garrick, goes directly to the soul ; but rhetoric 
is the creature of art, which he who feels least, 
will most excel in ; it is the quackery of eloquence, 
and deals in nostrums, not in cures. 



When honours come to us, rather than we to 
them ; when they meet us, as it were, in the ves- 
tibule of life, it is well if our enemies can say no 
more against us, than that we are too young for 
our dignities ; it would be much worse for us, if 
they could say that we are too old for them ; time 
will destroy the first objection, but confirm the 
second. 



Pickpockets and beggars are the best practical 
physiognomists, without having read a line of 
Lavater, who it is notorious, mistook a philosopher 
for a highwayman. 



208 LACON. 

Faults of the head are punished in this world, 
those of the heart in another ; but as most of our 
vices are compound, so also is their punishment. 

We are sure to be losers when we quarrel with 
ourselves ; it is a civil war, and in all such con- 
tentions, triumphs are defeats. 



Attempts at reform, when they fail, strengthen 
despotism ; as he that struggles, tightens those 
cords he does not succeed in breaking. 



A revengeful knave, will do more than he will 
say ; a grateful one, will say more than he Avill do. 

In naval architecture, the rudder is first fitted in, 
then the ballast is put on board, and last of all, the 
cargo and the sails. It is far otherwise in the fit- 
ting up and forming of man ; he is launched into 
life with the cargo of his faculties aboard, and all 
the sails of his passions set ; but it is the long and 
painful work of his life, to acquire the ballast of 
experience, and to form the rudder of reason ; 
hence, it too often happens that his frail vessel is 
shipwrecked before he has laid in the necessary 
quantity of ballast, or that he has been so long in 
completing the rudder, that the vessel has become 
too crazy to benefit by its application. 



It is with nations as with individuals, those who 
know the least of others, think the highest of them- 
selves ; for the whole family of pride and ignorance 
are incestuous, and mutually beget each other. 
The Chinese affect to despise European ingenuity, 



LACON, 209 

but they cannot mend a common watch ; when it is 
out of order ; they say it is dead, and barter it 
away for a living one. The Persians think that all 
foreign merchants come to them from a small 
island in the northern waters, barren and desolate, 
which produces nothing good or beautiful ; ' for why 
else,' say they, 'do the Europeans fetch such things 
from us, if they are to be had at home V The Turk 
will not. permit the sacred cities of Mecca or Medi- 
na to be polluted by the residence or even footstep 
of a single Christian ; and as to the grand Dairo 
of Japan, he is so holy that the sun is not permitted 
to have the honour of shining on his illustrious 
head. The king of Malacca, styles himself lord 
of the winds ; and the Mogul, to be equal with 
him, titles himself conqueror of the world, and his 
grandees are denominated rulers of the thunder 
storm and steersmen of the whirlwind ; even the 
pride of Xerxes, who fettered the sea, and wrote 
his commands to Mount Athos ; or of Caligula, 
who boasted of an intrigue with the moon — are both 
surpassed by the petty sovereign of an insignificant 
tribe in North America, who every morning stalks 
out of his hovel, bids the sun good-morrow, and 
points out to him with his finger, the course he is 
to take for the day : and to complete this climax of 
pride and ignorance, it is well known that the 
Khan of Tartary, who does not possess a single 
house under the canopy of Heaven, has no sooner 
finished his repast of mare's milk and horse-flesh, 
ihan he causes a herald to proclaim from his seat, 
that all the princes and potentates of the earth 
have his permission to go to dinner. ' The Arab,' 
says Zimmerman, ' in the conviction that his Ca- 
lif is infallible, laughs at the stupid credulity of 
18* 



llO LACON. 

the Tartar, who holds his Lama to be immortal. 
Those who inhabit Mount Bata, believe that who- 
ever eats a roasted cuckoo before his death, is a 
saint, and firmly persuaded of the infallibility of 
this mode of sanctification, deride the Indians, who 
drag a cow to the bed of a dying person, and by 
pinching her tail, are sure, if by that method they 
can make the creature void her urine in the face 
of the patient, he is immediately translated inta 
the third heaven. They scoff at the superstition 
of the Tartarian princes, who think that their beati- 
fication is secure, provided they can eat of the 
holy excrements of the Lama ; and the Tartars, 
in their turn, ridicule the Bramins, who for the 
better purification of their country, require them to 
eat cow-dung for the space of six months, while 
these would, one and all, if they were told of the 
cuckoo method of salvation, as heartily despise 
s,nd laugh at it. I have cited these ridiculous ex 
travagances, to show that there are two things in 
which all sects agree, the hatred with which they 
pursue the errors of others, and the love with 
which they cling to their own. 



We must suit the flattery to the mind and taste 
of the recipient. We do not put essences into 
hogsheads, or porter into vials. Delicate minds 
may be disgusted by compliments that would please 
a grosser intellect, as some fine ladies, who would 
be shocked at the idea of a dram, will not refuse 
a liqueur. Some indeed there are, who profess to 
despise all flattery, but even these are, neverthe- 
less, to be flattered, by being told that they do 
despise it. 



LAC ON. 211 

Expense of thought is the rarest prodigality, and 
to dare to live alone the rarest courage ; since 
there are many who had rather meet their bitter- 
est enemy in the field, than their own hearts in 
their closet. He that has no resources of mind, 
is more to be pitied than he who is in want of 
necessaries for the body ; and to be obliged to beg 
our daily happiness from others, bespeaks a more 
lamentable poverty than that of him who begs his 
daily bread. 



Some men of a secluded and studious life, have 
sent forth from their closet or their cloister, rays 
of intellectual light that have agitated courts, and 
revolutionized kingdoms ; like the moon, that far 
removed from the ocean, and shining upon it with 
a serene and sober light, is the chief cause of all 
those ebbings and flowings which incessantly dis- 
turb that world of waters. 



Happiness is much more equally divided than 
some of us imagine. One man shall possess most 
of the materials, but little of the thing ; another 
may possess much of the thing, but very few of 
the materials. In this particular view of it, happi- 
ness has been beautifully compared to the manna in 
the desert, he that gathered much had nothing over, 
and he that gathered little had no lack ; therefore, to 
diminish envy, let us consider not what others pos- 
sess, but what they enjoy ; mere riches may be the 
gift of lucky accident or blind chance, but happi- 
ness must be the result of prudent preference and 
rational design ; the highest happiness then, can 
have no other foundation than the deepest wisdom ; 



212 LACON. 

and the happiest fool is only as happy as he knows 
how to be. 



As there are some faults that have been termed 
faults on the right side, so there are some errors 
that might be denominated errors on the safe side. 
Thus, we seldom regret having been too mild, too 
cautious, or too humble ; but we often repent hav- 
ing been too violent, too precipitate, or too proud. 



Accustom yourself to submit on all and every 
occasion, on the most minute, no less than on the 
most important circumstances of life, to a small 
present evil, to obtain a greater distant good. This 
will give decision, tone, and energy to the mind, 
which thus disciplined, will often reap victory from 
defeat, and honour from repulse. Having acquired 
this invaluable habit of rational preference and 
just appreciation, start for that prize that endure th 
for ever; you will have little left to learn. The 
advantages you will possess over common minds, 
will be those of the Lanisia over the Tyro, and of 
the veteran over the recruit. 



Truth and reason, in this mixed state of good 
and evil, are not invariably triumphant over false- 
hood and error ; but even when labouring under a 
temporary defeat, the two former bear within them 
one stamp of superiority which plainly indicates 
that Omnipotence is on their side ; for the w r orthy 
conquerors in such a victory, universally retire 
abashed, enlightened, self-reproved, and exclaiming 
with Pyrrhus, ' A fevo more such victories and we 
are undone.'' 



LA CON. 213 

Were a plain unlettered man, but endowed with 
common sense, and a certain quantum of observa- 
tion and reflection, to read over attentively the four 
Gospels, and the Acts of the Apostles, without 
note or comment, I hugely doubt whether it would 
enter into his ears to hear, his eyes to see, or his 
heart to conceive, the purport of many ideas sig- 
nified by words ending in ism, which nevertheless 
have cost Christendom rivers of ink and oceans 
of blood. 



The most cruel and revengeful measures, when 
once carried, have often been pushed to their 
utmost, extremity by those very men, who before 
their enactment, pretended to oppose them, in order 
to throw the odium on others. This opposition has 
proceeded from the lip, not from the heart, and 
would not have been made, if the objector did not 
foresee that his opposition would be fruitless. Au- 
gustus, with his usual hypocrisy, pretended to be 
shocked with the idea of a proscription, and per- 
ceiving that Antony and Lepidus were two to one 
against him, he knew that his single vote against 
the measure could not succeed ; and that by giving 
it, he should preserve his popularity, and not be 
prevented from glutting his revenge ; but Suetonius 
informs us, that when the horrid work commenced, 
he carried it on with a severity more unrelenting 
than either of his colleagues ; ' utroque acerbius 
cxercuit]* and that whenever Lepidus or Antony 
were inclined to mercy, either from interest, in- 
treaty or bribes, he alone stoutly and lustily stood 

* Carriexi it on more cruelly than either. — Pub. 



214 LACON. 

out for blood : i Solus magnopere contendit ne cut 
parceretuj*.'* 



It is an easy and a vulgar thing to please the 
mob, and a very arduous task to astonish them ; 
but essentially to benefit and to improve them, is 
a work fraught with difficulty, and teeming with 
danger. 



The seeds of repentance are sown in youth by 
pleasure, but the harvest is reaped in age by pain. 



Riches may enable us to confer favours ; but 
to confer them with propriety and grace, requires a 
something that riches cannot give ; even trifles 
may be so bestowed as to cease to be trifles. The 
citizens of Megara offered the freedom of their 
city to Alexander ; such an offer excited a smile in 
the countenance of him who had conquered the 
world; but he received this tribute of their respect 
with complacency, on being informed that they had 
never offered it to any but to Hercules and himself. 



The worst thing that can be said of the most 
powerful, is, that they can take your life ; but the 
same thing can be said of the most weak. 

He that is good, will infallibly become better, and 
he that is bad, will as certainly become worse ; for 
vice, virtue, and time, are three things that never 
stand still. 

* He alone stoutly insisted that no one should be quired. 
— Pub. 



LACON. 215 

When the cruel fall into the hands of the cruel, 
we read their fate with horror, not with pity. Sylla 
commanded the bones of Marius to be broken, his 
eyes to be pulled out, his hands to be cut off, and 
his body to be torn in pieces with pincers, and Cat- 
iline was the executioner. ' A piece of cruelty,' 
says Seneca, 'only fit for Marius to suffer, Catiline 
to execute, and Sylla to command.' 



Injuries accompanied with insults are never for- 
given ; all men on these occasions are good 
haters, and lay out their revenge at compound 
interest ; they never threaten until they can strike, 
and smile when they cannot. Caligula told Vale- 
rius, in public, what kind of a bedfellow his wife 
was ; and when the tribune Cherus, who had an 
effeminate voice, came to him for the watchword, 
he would always give him Venus or Priapus. 
The first of these men was the principal instru- 
ment in the conspiracy against him, and the second 
cleft him down with his sword to convince him of 
his manhood. 



Let those who would affect singularity with suc- 
cess, first determine to be very virtuous, and they 
will be sure to be very singular. 



We should have all our communications with 
men, as in the presence of God ; and with God, as 
in the presence of men. 



A power above all human responsibility, ought 
to be above all human attainment ; he that is un- 
willing, may do harm, but he that is unable, cannot. 



§10 LA CON. 

We cannot think too highly of our nature, not 
too humbly of ourselves. When we see the man 
lyr to virtue, subject as he is to the infirmities of a 
man, yet suffering the tortures of a demon, and 
bearing them with the magnanimity of a god, do 
we not behold a heroism that angels may indeed 
surpass, but which they cannot imitate, and must 
admire. 



It is dangerous to take liberties with great men, 
unless we know them thoroughly ; the keeper will 
hardly put his head into the lion's mouth, upon a 
short acquaintance. 



Love is ^n alliance of friendship and of lust 
ii the Soulier predominate, it is a passion exalted 
and refined, but if the latter, gross and sensual. 



That virtue which depends on opinion, looks to 
secrecy alone, and could not be trusted in a desert. 



If patrons were more disinterested, ingratitude 
would be more rare. A person receiving a favour 
is apt to consider that he is, in some degree, dis- 
charged from the obligation, if he that confers it, 
derives from it some visible advantage by which he 
may be said to repay himself. Ingratitude has there- 
fore been termed a nice perception of the causes 
that induced the obligation ; and Alexander made 
a shrewd distinction between his two friends, when 
he said that Hepheestion loved Alexander, but Cra 
terus the king. — Rochefoucault has some ill-natur- 
ed maxims on this subject : he observes ' that we 
are always much better pleased to see those whom 
we have obliged, than those who have obliged us ; 



L A G O N . 21? 

that we confer benefits more from compassion to 
ourselves, than to others ; that gratitude is only a 
nice calculation, whereby we repay small favours, 
in the hope of receiving greater, and more of the 
like.' By a certain mode of reasoning, indeed, 
there are very few human actions which might not 
be resolved into self-love. It has been said that 
we assist a distressed object to get rid of the 
unpleasant sympathy excited by misery unreliev- 
ed ; and it might with equal plausibility be said, 
that we repay a benefactor to get rid of the unpleas- 
ant burden imposed by an obligation. Butler has 
well rallied this kind of reasoning, when he ob- 
serves, i That he alone is ungrateful, who makes 
returns of obligations, because he does it merely to 
free himself from owing as much as thanks.' In 
common natures, perhaps an active gratitude may 
be traced to this ; the pride that scorns to owe, has 
triumphed over that self-love that hates to pay. 



Despotism can no more exist in a nation, until 
the liberty of the press be destroyed, than the 
night can happen before the sun is set, 



Governments connive at many things which they 
ought to correct, and correct many things at which 
they ought to connive. But there is one mode of 
correcting so as to endear, and of conniving so as 
to reprove. 



He that will believe only what he can fully com- 
prehend, must have a very long head, or a very 
short creed. Many gain a false credit for liberal- 
ity of sentiment in religious matters, not from any 
tenderness thev may have to the opinions or con 
19 



218 LAC ON. 

sciences of other men, but because they happen to 
have no opinion or conscience of their own. 



As all who frequent any place of public worship, 
however they may differ from the doctrines there 
delivered, are expected to comport themselves with 
seriousness and gravity, so in religious controver- 
sies, ridicule ought never to be resorted to on either 
side ; whenever a jest is introduced on such a sub- 
ject, it is indisputably out of its place, arid ridicule, 
thus employed, so far from being a test of truth, is 
the surest test of error, in those who on such an 
occasion can stoop to have recourse unto it. 

It is a doubt, whether mankind are most indebted 
to those who like Bacon and Butler, dig the gold 
from the mine of literature, or to those who like 
Paley, purify it, stamp it, fix its real value, and give 
it currency and utility. For all the practical pur- 
poses of life, truth might as well be in prison as in 
the folio of a schoolman, and those who release her 
from her cob webbed shelf, and teach her to live 
with men, have the merit of liberating, if not of 
discovering her. 



Men of strong minds, who think for themselves, 
should not be discouraged, on finding occasionally 
that some of their best ideas have been anticipated 
by former writers ; they will neither anathematize 
others with a pereant qui ante nos nostra dixerint* 
nor despair themselves. They will rather go on in 
science, like John Hunter in physics, discovering 
things before discovered, until, like him, they are 

* Let them perish, who before us uttered our sayings. — Pub. 



LACON. 219 

rewarded with a terra, hitherto incognita in the 
sciences, an empire indisputably their own, both by 
right of conquest and of discovery. 



The most consistent men are not more unlike 
to others than they are at times to themselves ; 
therefore, it is ridiculous to see character-mongers 
drawing a full length likeness of some great man, 
and perplexing themselves and their readers by 
making every feature of his conduct strictly con- 
form to those lines and lineaments which they have 
laid down : they generally find or make for him 
some ruling passion* the rudder of his course ; but 
with all this pother about ruling passions, the fact 
is, that ail men and women have but one apparent 
good. Those indeed are the strongest minds and 
are capable of the greatest actions, who possess a 
telescopic power of intellectual vision, enabling 
them to ascertain the real magnitude and import- 
ance of distant good, and to despise those which 
are indebted for all their grandeur solely to their 
contiguity. 



If a cause be good, the most violent attack of 
its enemies will not injure it so much as an injudi- 
cious defence of it by its friends. Theodore and 
others, who gravely defend the monkish miracles 
and the luminous cross of Constantine, by their 
zeal without knowledge, and devotion without dis- 
cretion, have hurt the cause of Christianity more 
than the apostate Julian by his hostility, notwith- 
standing all the wit and vigour with which it was 
conducted. 



22a LlOOl, 

He that will often put eternity and the world 
before him, and who will dare to look steadfastly 
at both of them, will find that as he contemplates 
them, the former will grow greater, and the latter, 
less. 



Cruel men are the greatest lovers of mercy — 
avaricious men of generosity — and proud men ol 
humility,— that is to say, in others, not in them- 
selves. 

There is this difference between hatred and pity ; 
pity is a thing often avowed, seldom felt; hatred is 
a thing often felt, seldom avowed. 



There is an elasticity in the human mind, capa 
Me of bearing much, but which will not show itself 
until a certain weight of affliction be put upon it ; 
its powers may be compared to those vehicles 
whose springs are so contrived that they get on 
smoothly enough when loaded, but jolt confound- 
edly when they have nothing to hear. 



Were the life of man prolonged, he would 
become such a proficient in villany, that it w r ould 
become necessary again to drown or to burn the 
world. Earth would become a hell ; for future 
rewards, when put off to a great distance, would 
cease to encourage, and future punishments to 
alarm. 



He that is contented with obscurity, if he acquire 
no fame will suffer no persecution ; and he that is 
determined to be silent, may laugh securely at the 



LAC ON. 221 

critics, although they should exclaim as vainly as 
the patriarch Job, ' O that our enemy had written a 

book r 



Physicians must discover the weaknesses of the 
human mind, and even condescend to humour them, 
or they will never be called in to cure the infirmi- 
ties of the body. 



Envy ought in strict truth to have no place 
whatever allowed it in the heart of man ; for the 
goods of this present world are so vile and low, 
that they are beneath it ; and those of the future 
world are so vast and exalted, that they are above it. 

If Satan ever laughs, it must be at. hypocrites ; 
they are the greatest dupes he has ; they serve him 
better than any others, and receive no wages ; nay, 
what is still more extraordinary, they submit to 
greater mortifications to go to hell, than the sin- 
cerest Christian to go to heaven. 



The schisms in the church of Christ are deeply 
to be lamented on many accounts, by those who 
have any regard for all that is valuable and worth 
preserving amongst men ; and although we are 
willing to hope and believe with Paley, that the 
rent has not reached the foundation, yet are these 
differences (though not in essentials) most partic- 
ularly to be lamented, because they prevent the 
full extension of the glorious light of the gospel 
throughout the world. These dJferences amongst 
ourselves, furnish those whom v?e would attempt 
to convert, with this plausible, ^nd to them I fear 
unanswerable argument: ' With what face can you 
19* 



222 L ACQ K , 

Christians attempt to make us converts to your r 
faith, when you have not yet decided amongst 
yourselves what Christianity is? Surely it will 
be time enough to make proselytes of others, when 
you yourselves are agreed. For Calvin damns the 
Pope, and the Pope damns Calvin; and the onhf- 
thing in which they agree, is in damning Sociims, 
while Socinus in his turn, laughs at both, and be 
lieves neither.' 



The mob, like the ocean, is very seldom agitated 
without some cause superior and exterior to itself; 
but (to continue the simile) both are capable of 
doing the greatest mischief after the cause which 
first set them in motion, has ceased to act. 

The victims of ennui paralyze all the grosser 
feelings by excess, and torpefy all the finer by dis- 
use and inactivity. Disgusted with this world and 
indifferent about another, they at last lay violent 
hands upon themselves, and assume no small credit 
for the sang froid with which they meet death. 
But alas, such beings can scarcely be said to die, 
for they have never truly lived. 



A dull author just delivered, and a plain woman 
about to be so, are two very important animals. 



There are moments of despondency, when 
Shakspeare thought himself no poet, and Raphael 
no painter; when the greatest wits have doubted 
the excellence of their happiest efforts. 



It has been observed that a dwarf standing on 
the shoulders of a giant, will see farther than tto 



LACON. 223 

g^ant himself; and the moderns, standing as they 
do on the vantage ground of former discoveries, 
and uniting all the fruits of the experience of their 
forefathers, with their own actual observation, may 
be admitted to enjoy a more enlarged and compre- 
hensive view of things than the ancients them- 
selves ; for that alone is true antiquity, which 
embraces the antiquity of the world, and not that 
which would refer us back to a period when the 
world was young. By whom is this true antiquity 
enjoyed 1 Not by the ancients who did live in the 
infancy, but by the moderns who do live in the 
maturity of things. Therefore, as regards the age 
of the world, we may lay a juster claim to the title 
of being the ancients, even than our very forefathers 
themselves, for they inhabited the world when it was 
young, but we occupy it now that it is old ; that 
precedent may not exert too despotic a rule over 
experience, and that the dead may not too strictly 
govern the living, may I be pardoned in taking a 
Drief and cursory view of the claims of the ancients 
to our veneration, so far as they are built on the 
only proper foundation, — superiority of mind. It 
is by no means my object to lessen our esteem for 
those great men who have lived before us, and who 
have accomplished such wonders, considering the 
scantiness of their means ; my intention is merely 
to suggest, that the veneration due to times that 
are past, is a blind veneration, the moment it is 
paid at the expense of times that are present ; for 
as these very ancients themselves were once the 
moderns, so we moderns must also become ancients 
in our turn. What I would principally contend for, 
is, that the moderns enjoy a much more extended 
and comprehensive view of science, than the 



224 LA CON, 

ancients ; not because we have greater capacities, 
but simply because we enjoy* far greater capabili- 
ties ; for that which is perfect in science, is most 
commonly the elaborate result of successive 
improvements, and of various judgments exercised 
on the rejection of what was wrong, no less than 
in the adoption of what was right. We therefore 
are profiting, not only by the knowledge, but also 
by the ignorance, not only by the discoveries, but 
also by the errors of our forefathers ; for the march 
of science, like that of time, has been progressing 
i .j the :.Hrl-ness,no less than the light. The great 
clk\ii oj ' antiquity is chronology; and so sensible 
of r- v Lie was Scaliger, that his celebrated invo- 
(. .ciju to the Olympiads is as full of passion and 
admiration as the warmest address of a lover to 
his mistress, with this difference, that our literary 
Colossus sought for wrinkles rather than dimples, 
and his idol would have had more charms for him, 
if she had numbered more ages upon her head. It 
is admitted that previously to the establishment of 
the Olympiads, there was much error and confusion 
in the historical records of Greece and Rome, 
neither, if their dates had been accurately calcula- 
ted, did they possess the means which we enjoy 
of multiplying the records of them, so s as to put 
them beyond the reach either of accidental or 
intentional destruction ; and hence it happens, that 
on the greatest works of antiquity, the pyramids, 
chronology has nothing to depose ; one thing is 
apparent, that the builders of them were not totally 
ignorant, either of geometry or of astronomy, since 
they are all built with their respective faces pre- 
cisely opposite the four cardinal points. It is well 
known that a modern ' nulli veterum virtute secnn- 



LAC OX, teb 

dus^* has detected an enormous error in ancient 
chronology, and has proved that the Argonautic 
expedition, and the Trojan war, are nearer to 
the birth of Christ by six hundred years, than all 
former calculation had placed them ; for Hippar- 
chu.s, who first discovered the precession of the 
equinoxes, fancied they retrograded one degree in 
one hundred years, whereas Sir Isaac Newtonf has 
determined that they go back one degree in seven- 
ty-two years. As geographers, their knowledge is 
still more limited, since they were ignorant of the 
polarity of the magnet, although they were acquaint- 
ed with its powers of attraction; many of them 
fancied the earth was motionless and flat, and that 
the pillars of Hercules were its boundaries ; that 
the sun set in the sea, was believed by grarer per- 
sons than the poets ; and with a timidity propor- 
tionate to their ignorance, in ail their voyages they 
seldom dared to lose sight of the coast, since a 

* Second in excellence to none of the ancients. — Pus. 

t We know that the fixed stars, which were formerly 
m Aries are now in Taurus ; and the point proposed by Sir 
Isaac Newton was to ascertain from the Greek astronomy, 
what was the position of the colures with respect to trie 
fixed stars, in the time of Chiron : and as Sir Isaac had pro- 
ved that the fixed stars have a motion in longitude of one 
degree in seventy-two years, not in one hundred years, as 
■Hipparchus has amrrned, the problem was to calculate the 
distance between those stars through which the colure now 
passes, and those through which it passed in the time of 
Chiron. And as Chiron was one of the Argonauts, this 
would give us the number of years that have elapsed since 
that famous expedition, and would consequently fix the 
true date of the Trojan war: and these two events from 
the cardinal points of the ancient chronology so far at 
least as the Greeks and the Romans are concerned. A 
somewhat similar attempt to correct the ancient chronolo- 
gy has also been undertaken, by a retro-calculation of the 
eclipses. 



220- I, ACQ N . 

needle and a quadrant would have become as use* 
less a present to Palinurus, the helmsman of TErie- 
as, as to the chief of an Indian canoe. As histo- 
rians, it is almost superfluous to say, that their 
credibility is much shaken by that proneness to 
believe in prodigies, auguries r omens, and the inter- 
position of their gods ; which credulity the very 
soberest of them have by no means escaped. As 
moralists, their want of confidence in a future 
state of existence,, was a source of the greatest er- 
ror and confusion. They could not sincerely ap- 
prove of virtue, as a principle of action always to be 
depended on, since without a future state, virtue is 
not always its own reward. Nor did the noblest 
of them, as Brutus and Cato, succeed in finding it 
to be so ; their honestum and their decorum, were 
phantoms that fed on the air of opinion, and like 
the chameleon, changed as often as their food ; yet, 
these visionary objects, though undefined, were 
perpetually explained, and, though un grasped, were 
constantly pursued.* As warriors, their ignorance 

* Carneades was a philosopher, whose eloquence Cice- 
ro dreaded so much, that he deprecated an attack from 
him, in the humblest manner, in the following words :. 
' Perturbatricem autem harum omnium rerum academi- 
am hanc ab Arcesila et Carneade recentem exoremus ut 
sileat ; nam si invaserit in has quce satis scite nobis in- 
structs et composite videntur rationes nimias edetruinas, 
quam quidam ego placare cupio submovere non audeo.'* 
Now this Carneades, whom Cicero so much dreaded, 
maintained that there was no such thing as justice ! and he 
supported his theory by such sophisms as these : that the 
condition of men is such that if they have a mind to be 
just, they must act imprudently; and that if they have a 
mind to act prudently, they must be unjust ; and that it 

* For we will implore this new academy of Arcesila and Carneades, 
this disturber of all these opinions, to be silent; for should it attack 
these doctrines, wh ich to us seem so consistent, it might bring about a 
terrible 'devastation- Idesire to conciliate, and dare not repulse it.-P;n3* 



LACON. 227 

of chymistry must render their campaigns very 
tame and uninteresting to those who reflect that a 
single piece of ordnance would have secured to 
Pompey the battle of Pharsalia, and that a single 
frigate at Actium would have given Antony the 
empire of the world. In the useful arts their igno 
ranee of the powers of steam, and of that property 
of water by which it rises to its level, has render- 
ed all their efforts, proofs of their perseverance 
rather than of their knowledge, and evidence of 
the powers of their hands, rather than of their 
heads. The most stupendous remains of anti 
quity, the aqueducts themselves, are rather monu- 
ments of a strength like that of Sampson, blind to 
contrive, but powerful to execute, than of a skill, 
sharpsighted to avoid difficulties, rather than to 
overcome them. With all these defects, we must 
admit that the ancients were a wonderful order of 
men, and a contemplation of their actions will 
richly repay the philosopher. The ancients are 
fully rescued from all imputation of imbecility, for 

follows, there can be no such thing as justice^ because a 
virtue inseparable from a folly cannot be just. Lactan- 
tius is correct, when he affirms that the heathens could not 
answer this sophism, and that Cicero dared not undertake 
it. The error was this, the restricting of the value of jus- 
tice to temporal things ; for to those who disbelieve a fu- 
ture state, or even have doubts about it, ' Honesty is not al- 
ways the best policy,' and it is reserved for Christians, 
who take into their consideration the whole existence of 
man, to argue clearly and consequentially on the sterling 
value of justice. It is well known that Mr. Hume him- 
self was never so much puzzled, as when peremptorily 
asked by a lady at Bath, to declare upon his honour as a 
gentleman, whether he would choose his confidential do- 
mestics from such as held his own principles, or from 
those who conscientiously believed the eternal truths of Re- 
velation. He frankly decided in favour of the latter. 



228 LAC ON. 

they were denied those ample means of an advance- 
ment in knowledge, to which we have access ; and 
it is highly probable that some future modern will 
have hereafter to make the very same apology for 
us. If I have cited some of their deficiencies, I 
have done it not to diminish that respect we owe 
to them, but to give somewhat more of solidity to 
that which we owe to ourselves. We willingly 
submit to the authority and attestation of the dead ; 
but when it would triumph over all the improve- 
ment and experience of the living, it is no longer 
submission, but slavery. We would then, rather be 
right with one single companion, truth, than wrong, 
with all the celebrious names of antiquity. We 
freely admit that the ancients effected all that could 
be accomplished by men who lived in the infancy 
of time ; but the eagle of science herself could 
not soar until hei* wings were grown. In sculpture 
and in poetry, two sciences where they had the 
means, our forefathers have fully equalled, perhaps 
exceeded, their children. In sculpture, the image 
worship of their temples held out the highest 
encouragement to the artist ; and in the battle, no 
less than in the palaestra, statues were the princi- 
pal rewards of conquerers. We know that Pindar 
was refused the price he had set upon an ode in 
celebration of one who had been crowned at the 
Olympic games, because the victor had calculated 
that a much less sum would purchase a statue 
of brass. But on the following day he determined 
to employ the poet, under the conviction that an 
ode of Pindar would outlive a statue of far more 
indestructible materials than marble or brass. W r e 
might also add, that the games of Greece enabled 
She sculptor to study the human form, not only 



L A O N . 229 

flaked, but in all its various attitudes of muscular 
exertion ; and while the genial climate of Greece 
supplied the sculptor with the finest models, the 
soil furnished him with the best materials. If the 
ancients are more than our rivals in poetry, it may- 
be observed, that their mythology was eminently 
calculated for poetical machinery, and also that 
the scenery of nature, that laboratory of the poet, 
neither wants nor waits for its full improvement 
from the progressive hand of time. We must also 
remember, that the great merit of this art is origi- 
nality, and its peculiar province, invention. The 
ancients, therefore, being in the order of precedence 
the first discoverers of the pojtical mine, took care 
to help themselves to the largest diamonds. 



Success too often sanctions the worst and the 
wildest schemes of human ambition. That such a 
man as Cromwell should have been enabled under 
any circumstances to seize the reins of a mighty 
empire, is matter of surprise to some, of indignation 
to all. Could we call him up from the dead, he is 
the very last man that could rationally explain his 
own success, which no doubt, at the time, excited 
as much astonishment in himself as in beholders ; 
but he owed as much to the folly, timidity, and 
fanaticism of others, as to his own sagacity, 
courage, and craftiness. In fact, the times made 
him, not he the times. If a civil war raged at this 
moment, and the sacred names of king and parlia- 
ment were again arrayed against each other in the 
field, such a man as Cromwell, at present, would 
never arrive at any station higher than an adjutant 
of dragoons. He might preach and pray, write and 
fight, bluster and harangue, but not one step higher 
20 



230 J.ACON, 

would he get. If every thing in his character had 
not been artificial, except his courage, he had been 
nobody ; and if he had not carried his hypocrisy 
so far as at times to deceive himself he had been 
ruined. When he cleared the house of commons, 
and exclaimed, i You are an adulterer, you are an 
extortioner, you are a glutton, and you are no 
longer a parliament ;' suppose a single member had 
rejoined, ' You are a hypocrite, and by this illegal 
act have forfeited your commission, and are no 
longer an officer ; soldiers, at your peril proceed I' 
Such a speech might have turned the whole tide 
of affairs, and have sent back Oliver to the Tower 
instead of Whitehall, never again to quit it, except 
to lay his head upon the block. 



It was observed of the Jesuits, that they con- 
stantly inculcated a thorough contempt of worldly 
things in their doctrines, but eagerly grasped at 
them in their lives. They were l wise in their 
generation,' for they cried down worldly things, 
because they wanted to obtain them, and cried up 
spiritual things, because they wanted to dispose of 
them. 



Human foresight often leaves its proudest pos- 
sessor only a choice of evils. 



' The fowler,' saith Solomon, ' spreadeth not his 
net in the sight of the bird ;' and if rulers open the 
eyes of a nation, they must expect that they will 
see. A government that is corrupt, can no more 
consist with a population that is enlightened, than 
the night can continue when the sun is up. The 
most laudable efforts are now making by those that 



L A C O N • 231 

are in power, for the intellectual improvement of 
the labouring classes of society. It would be in- 
vidious to affirm with some, that our rulers have 
done so much, only because they were afraid that 
others would do more, if they themselves did 
nothing. There are good grounds to believe that 
llrey have been influenced by higher motives, but 
at all events, every public measure for the intel- 
lectual improvement of the governed, is the surest 
pledge and guarantee of the integrity of those who 
govern, because all that are in power, are well 
aware that a corresponding purity in those who 
rule, must ever keep a proportionate pace with the 
progression of knowledge in those who obey. 
Some would maintain, that the rays of truth, like 
those of the sun, if too abundant, dazzle the multi- 
tude rather than enlighten them ; but this analogy 
is false, for truth has not, althougii the ignus fatuus 
of error may have, such effect ; although truth is 
brighter than the sun, yet the mind is stronger than 
the body, and the intellectual eye can look at the es- 
sence of moral truth, with far less uneasiness than 
the corporeal eye at the concentration of material. 



Some demagogues, like Catiline, can raise a 
storm, who cannot, like Cromwell, rule it ; thus the 
Gracchi, wishing to make the agrarian law the 
ladder of their ascent, found it the instrument of 
their fall ; l fracta compagc ruebant.'* 



Dreams ought to produce no conviction what- 
ever on philosophical minds. If we consider how 
many dreams are dreamt every night, and how 

* Wicn litis, hoop broke, the cask Jell to pieces.— Pub, 



232 LACQN. 

many events occur every day, we shall no longer 
wonder at; those accidental coincidences, which 
ignorance mistakes for verifications. — There are 
also numberless instances on record, where dreams 
have brought about their own fulfilment, owing to 
the weakness and credulity of mankind. The 
mother of Abbott, who filled the archiepiscopal 
throne of Canterbury, in the reign of James the 
First, had a dream, that if she could eat a pike, 
the child with which she was then pregnant would 
be a son, and rise to great preferment. Not long 
after this, in taking a pail of water out of the river 
Wye, which ran near her house, she accidentally 
caught a pike, and thus had an opportunity of 
fulfilling the first part of her dream. This story 
being much noised about, and coming to the ears 
of some persons of distinction, they became spon- 
sors to the child, and his future patrons. But I 
suspect, after all, that this marvellous pike swal- 
lowed by the mother, was not so instrumental to 
the archbishop's preferment, as the story of the 
Earl of Gowrie's conspiracy against the life of the 
king, swallowed by the son. It would seern that 
there are occasions where churchmen may carry 
the doctrine of divine right so far as to displease 
even kings, for thus writeth King James with his 
own hand to Doctor Abbott, then a dean : ' You 
have dipped too deep into what all kings reserve 
among the arcana imperii-* and whatever aversion 
you may profess against God's being the author 
of sin, you have stumbled on the threshold of that 
opinion, in saying upon the matter, that even 
tyranny is God's authority, and ought to be re* 

* Secrets ofivjwer.—Vvs.. 



LAC ON. 233 

membered as such. If the king of Spain should 
return to claim his old pontifical right to my king- 
dom, you leave me to seek for others to fight for it, 
for you tell us upon the matter, beforehand, that 
his authority is God's authority, if he prevail.' A 
man who could go such lengths, was not likely to 
continue long in a deanery under the reign of 
James, nor need we call in the assistance of a 
dream to account for his promotion. 

At the restoration of Charles the Second, the 
tide of opinion set so strong in favour of loyalty, that 
the principal annalist of that day pauses to express 
his wonder where the men came from, who had 
done all the mischief; but this was the surprise of 
ignorance ; for it is in politics as in religion, none 
run into such extremes as renegadoes, or so ridicu- 
lously overact their parts. The passions, on these 
occasions, take their full swing, and react like the 
pendulum, whose oscillations on one side will 
always be regulated by the height of the arc it has 
subtended on the other. 



He that from small beginnings has deservedly 
raised himself to the highest stations, may not 
always find that full satisfaction in the possession 
of his object, that he anticipated in the pursuit of 
it. Although the individual may be disappointed, 
the community are benefited, first by his exer- 
tions, and secondly by his example ; for it has 
been well observed, that the public are served, not 
by what the Lord Mayor feels who rides in his 
coach, but by what the apprentice boy feels, who 
locks at him. 

20* 



231 L A C N . 

As in public life, the minister that makes wa* 
with parsimony, must make peace with prodigality, 
so in private life, those hostile but feeble measures, 
which only serve to irritate our enemies, not to in- 
timidate them, are by all means to be avoided ; for 
he that has recourse to them, only imposes upon 
himself the ultimate necessity of purchasing a re- 
conciliation, often expensive, always humiliating. 



A noble income, nobly expended, is no common 
sight. It is far more easy to acquire a fortune like 
a knave, than to expend it, like a gentleman. If 
we exhaust our income in schemes of ambition, we 
shall purchase disappointment ; if in law, vexation ; 
if in luxury, disease. What we lend, we shall 
most probably lose ; what we spend rationally, we 
shall enjoy ; what we distribute to the deserving, 
we shall enjoy and retain* 



The inexhaustible resources of Great Britain 
were always an inexplicable mystery to Napoleon, 
and he was taught their reality only by their 
effects. There was a period, when to the defence 
of the noblest cause, England brought the highest 
valour, while all that were oppressed, drew at sight, 
on her treasure and on her blood. It would have 
been glorious if she had evinced a magnanimity 
that calculated not on return ; if she had continued 
to sow benefits, although she might reap ingrati- 
tude. Alas ! she found it more easy to conquer 
others, than herself. Her safety requires not the 

* If there be any truth in the old epitaph :— , 

* What we lent Ave lost ; 1 

What we spent Ave have ; 
What we gave, Ave hacl 5 



L A C rs . 23' 

compromise of her honour ; for although her pros- 
perity will draw envy,* her power may despise it ; 
she is beset with difficulties, but it is her own fault 
if they become dangers; and although she may 
suffer somewhat if compared with her former self, 
she is still gigantic if compared with others. She 
may command peace, since she has not relinquished 
the sinews of war ; a paradox to all other nations, 
she will say to America, territory is not power ; to 
India, population is not force ; and to Spain, money 
is not wealth. 



To judge by the event, is an error all abuse and 
all commit ; for in every instance, courage, i^ 
crowned with success, is heroism ; if clouded by 
defeat, temerity. When Nelson fought his battle 
in the Sound, it was the result alone, that decided 
whether he was to kiss a hand at court, or a rod at 
a court-martial. 



Princes rule the people, and their own passions 
rule princes ; but Providence can overrule the 
whole, and draw the instruments of his inscrutable 
purposes from the vices, no less than the virtues of 
kings. Thus, the Reformation, which was planted 
by the lust of Henry the Eighth of England, was 

* Envy, as is generally the case, is both purblind and im- 
politic; it is for the general and true interests of the world, 
that Great Britain should hold the sceptre of the seas ; for 
if she ceased to wield it, it must of necessity devolve to 
France; and on the fatal consequences of such a calamity, 
to the best interests of the civilized world, there can be no 
necessity to enlarge; not that France would make a worse 
use of such power than some other nations, but because 
such an accumulation of it ought not to be vested in any, 
that are already so powerful by land. 



236 LACON. 

preserved by the ambition of Philip the Second vl 
Spain. Queen Mary would have sacrificed Eliza 
beth to the full establishing of the Catholic faith, 
if she had not been prevented by Philip the Second, 
her husband, who foresaw, in the death of Eliza- 
beth, the succession of Mary Stewart, then mar- 
ried to Francis the Second, and in that succession, 
he anticipated the certain union of Great Britain 
and France ; an event that would have dispersed 
to the winds his own ambitious dream of universal 
monarchy. The consequence was, the life of 
Elizabeth was preserved, and the Protestant cause 
prevailed. 

The great estate of a dull book-maker is biogra- 
phy ; but we should read the lives of great men, U 
written by themselves, for two reasons ; to find out 
what others really were, and what they themselves 
would appear to be. 

To quell the pride, even of the greatest, we 
should reflect how much we owe to others, and 
how little to ourselves. Philip having made him- 
self master of Potidcea, received three messengers 
in one day; the first brought him an account of a 
great victory gained over the Iilyrians by his 
general Parmenio ; the second told him that he was 
proclaimed victor at the Olympic games ; and the 
third informed him of the birth of Alexander. 
There was nothing in all these events, that ought 
to have fed the vanity, or that would have justified 
the pride of Philip, since, as an elegant writer 
remarks, ' for the first he was indebted to his gen 
eral ; for the second to his horse ; and his wife is 
shrewdly suspected of having helped him to the 
third: 



L A C O N . 237 

Should the world applaud, we must thankfully 
receive it as a boon ; for if the mast deserving of 
us appear to expect it as a debt, it will never be 
paid. The world, it has been said, does as much 
justice to our merits, as to our defects, and 1 
believe it ; but after all, none of us are so much 
praised or censured as we think ; and most men 
would be thoroughly -cured of their self-importance, 
if they would only rehearse their oven funeral, and 
walk abroad incognito, the very day after that on 
which they were supposed to have been buried. 



For -one man who sincerely pities our misfor- 
tunes, there are a thousand who sincerely hate our 
success. 



Substract from many modern poets, all that, may 
be found in Shakspeare, and trash will remain. 



He that likes a hat dinner, a warm welcome, new 
ideas, and old wine, will not often dine with the 
great. 



Those who bequeath unto themselves a pom- 
pous funeral, are at just so much expense to inform 
the world of something that had much better been 
concealed ; namely, that their vanity has survived 
themselves. 



In reading the life of any great man, you will 
always in the course of his history, chance upon 
some obscure individual, who on some particular 
occasions, was greater than him whose life you 
are reading. 



238 LAC ON. 

In cases of doubtful morality, it is usual to' say, 
is there any harm in doing this ? This question 
may sometimes be best answered by asking our- 
selves another ; is there any harm in letting it 
alone ? 



He that has never known adversity, is but half 
acquainted with others, or with himself. Constant 
success shows us but one side of the world ; for, 
as it surrounds us with friends, who will tell us only 
our merits, so it silences those enemies from whom 
alone we can learn our defects. 



When men of sense approve, the million are sure 
to follow ; to be pleased, is to pay a compliment to 
their own taste. 



The death of Judas, is as strong a confirmation 
of Christianity, as the life of Paul. 



Women generally consider consequences in love 
seldom in resentment. 



Most of our misfortunes are more supportable, 
than the comments of our friends upon them. 



We should embrace Christianity, even on pru- 
dential motives ; for a just and benevolent God will 
not punish an intellectual being, for believing what 
there is so much reason to believe ; therefore we 
run no risk by receiving Christianity if it be false, 
but a dreadful one by rejecting it, if it be true. 



The great designs that have been digested and 
matured, and the great literary works that havfl 



LACO N ; 239 

been begun anil finished in prisons, fully prove, 
that tyrants have not yet discovered any chains 
that can fetter the mind. 

He that knows himself, knows others ; and he 
that is ignorant of himself, could not write a very 
profound lecture on other men's heads. 



We ought not to be over anxious to encourage 
innovation, in cases of doubtful improvement, for 
an old system must ever have two advantages over 
a new one : it is established, and it is understood. 



Power will intoxicate the best hearts, as wine 
the strongest heads. No man is wise enough, nor 
good enough to be trusted with unlimited power ; 
for whatever qualifications he may have evinced to 
entitle him to the possession of so dangerous a 
privilege, yet, when possessed, others can no 
longer answer for him, because he can no longer 
answer for himself. 



There are two things which ought to teach us 
to think but meanly of human glory ; the very best 
nave had their calumniators, the very worst their 
panegyrists. 



No metaphysician ever felt the deficiency of 
language so much, as the grateful. 

Most men know what they hate, few what they 
love. 

All great cities abound with little men, whose 
object it is to be the stars of the dinner table, and 



240 L A C O ft . 

grand purveyors of all tlie stray jokes of the town ; 
so long as these turnspits con line themselves to* 
fetch and carry for their -masters, they succeed tole- 
rably well ; but the moment they set up for origin- 
ality, and commence manufacturers, instead of 
retailers, they are ruined. Like the hind wheel of 
a carriage, which is in constant pursuit of the fore 
one, without ever overtaking it, so these become 
the doubles o£ a Selwyn or a Sheridan, but without 
ever coming up to them. They are constantly 
near wit, without being witty, as his valet is always 
near a great man, without being great. 



Fa-rrvp : s an undertaker that pays but little atten- 
tion i UiG living, but bedizens the dead, furnishes 
Oi;' -.'.._. /. :ierals, and follows them to the grave. 



The British constitution, as it is to be found in 
1 Magna Charta,' and the c Bill of Rights? has so 
much that is good, and worthy of preservation, that 
a lover of true liberty would rather live under it, 
than under any other mode of government, ancient 
or modern, barbarous or refined. Its destruction, 
at the present moment, would be the most melan- 
choly thing that could happen, both to Englishmen 
and to the world. Such an event would retro- 
grade the march of improvement many centuries 
of years ; and he that could coolly set about to 
effect it, must unite the phrensy of the maniac with the 
malignity of the demon. The financial difficulties 
w 7 hich this mighty empire has at present to contend 
with, as they arise from the most honourable causes, 
throw a greater lustre upon her, in the eyes of sur- 
rounding nations, than the most brilliant prosperity 
could possibly do, if obtained by the slightest dere- 



LA CO is;. 241 

fiction of public principle and faith. The fiscal 
embarrassments of the nation ought not, and must 
not, endanger the constitution. The sincere lovers 
of the constitution tremble not at these things, but 
they do tremble when they see the possibility of a 
violation of the laws with impunity, whether that 
violation be attempted by the highest or by the 
lowest. If we trace the history of most revolutions, 
we shall find that the first inroads upon the laws, 
have been made by the governors, as often as by 
the governed. The after excesses committed by 
the people, have usually been the result of that 
common principle of our nature, which incites us 
to follow the example of our betters, however ridi- 
culous the consequences may be on some occa- 
sions, or deplorable on others. The laws are a 
restraint submitted to by both parties, the ruler 
and the subject, until the fences on both sides 
being completely broken down and destroyed, the 
two parties meet in the adverse shock of mutual 
hostility, and force becomes, for a season, the sole 
legislator of the land. In this country, the king 
has been justly termed, the speaking law ; the law, 
the silent king. We have a monarch not at all 
inclined to strain his prerogative, which forbear- 
ance ought to render the people equally cautious 
of stretching their privilege ; let them beware of 
those demagogues, who tell them that they feel for 
them, but who would be the last to feel ivith them, 
when the consequences of their own doctrine shall 
arrive. The truth is, that no atrocity or aggression 
of the people, will vitally affect the solid safety of 
our commonwealth, until our rulers are intimidated 
to compromise that security, by resorting to ille- 
gal modes of defending the laws, or unconstitutional 
21. 



242 LACON. 

measures to preserve the constitution ; knowing 
this, that the moment any government usurps a 
power superior to the laws, it then usurps a power, 
which, like the convulsive strength of the madman, 
springs from disease, and will infallibly terminate 
in weakness. 



The science of legislation is like that of medi- 
cine in one respect, it is far more easy to point out 
what will do harm, than what will do good. ' Nequid 
nim is?* therefore, is perhaps quite as safe a maxim 
for a Solon as for a Hippocrates, because it unfor- 
tunately happens, that a good law cannot operate 
so strongly for the amendment, as a bad law for the 
depravation of the people ; it is necessary, from 
the very nature of things, that laws should be pro- 
hibitory, rather than remunerative, and act upon 
our fears, rather than upon our hopes. Pains and 
penalties are far more cheap and feasible modes of 
influencing the community, than rewards and en- 
couragements ; therefore, if a law should strongly 
recommend habits of justice, industry, and sobriety, 
such a law would be feebly obeyed, because it has 
little to offer, but very much to oppose ; it has to 
oppose all the vicious propensities of our nature ; 
but if through oversight, or indiscretion, a law 
should happen to connive at, or to tempt the sub- 
ject to habits of fraud, idleness, or inebriety, such 
a law, inasmuch as it falls in with all the vicious 
propensities of our nature, would meet with a 'prac- 
tical attention, even beyond its own enactments, 
and produce works of supererogation on the side 
of delinquency ; for the road to virtue is a rugged 

* Nothing to excess. — Pue. 



LAC ON. 243 

eseent, to vice a smooth declivity, : facilis descen- 
sus averni?* To strengthen the above positions, 
all the bearings oi the poor laws upon society might 
be fairly adduced ; most of those enactments ope- 
rate as a bounty upon idleness, and as a drawback 
upon exertion; they take from independence its 
proper pride ; from mendicity its salutary shame ; 
they deprive foresight of its fair reward, and im- 
providence of its just responsibility. They act as a 
constant and indis criminating invitation to the mar- 
riage feast, crowding it with guests, without put- 
ting a single dish upon the table ; we might even 
afirrrn, that these laws now indicate a quite contrary 
tendency, and are beginning to remove the dishes,' 
although they still continue to invite the guests; 
for there are numerous instances,, where the para-- 
lyzing pressure of the poor rates has already begun 
to produce its own necessary and final consumma- 
tion — -the non-cultivation of the soil.j . 

* Easy is the descent of Ave runs. — Pub. 

t Before a committee of the House of Commons, soma 
fearful evidence was lately adduced, which went to prove 
the alarming' fact, that, in some cases, particularly in the 
neighbourhood of large manufacturing towns, estates had : 
not been cultivated, "as being utterly unable to meet the 
doable demands of rates and of rent. Our late political 
Hercules, Mr. Pitt, felt the necessity, but shrunk from the 
difficulty of cleansing the Augean stable of the poor laws. 
The most effectual mode of assisting the poor, must be the 
devising some source of employment, that shall enable them 
to assist themselves. It unfortunately happens, that unless 
this employment be profitable to those who find the capital, 
it will not long be serviceable to those who find the indus- 
try, and how to devise adequate employment for the la- 
bourer, that shall at the same time repay the capitalist, is 
the grand arcanum that we want to get "hold of, ■ hoc opus 
kic labor esV Our inexhaustible treasure of coal, and of 
"** ***& r?ade the steam nower so available, and so ac« 



*M4 LAC ON, 

The code of poor laws has at length fn\>svn up 
into a tree, which, like the fabulous Upas, over- 
shadows and poisons the land; unwholesome expe* 

cessible, that there seems to be no assignable limit to the 
improvement of our machinery; but, to permit our ma- 
chinery to be exported, is about as wise as to hammer 
swords upon our own anvils, to be employed against our- 
selves ; ' in nostros fabricata, est machina miiros.'* It is im- 
possible to deprive Englishmen of their spirit of enterprise 
and invention, or of the power of their ingenuity, and their 
habits of industry ; but our machinery is the imbodied result 
of all these things put together, and in this point, the ex- 
portation of it, is to deprive us of much of the benefit of 
those high qualifications stated above; thus it is that the 
powers of our heads may ultimately paralyze the labours 
of our hands. The gigantic and formidable dilemma of the 
present day is this: three orders of men are vitally neces- 
sary to the existence of the state, for our national indepen- 
dence is triune, resting upon the welfare of the agricultu- 
rist, the manufacturer, and the merchant. The misfortune 
is, that the agriculturist wants one state of things, oppo- 
site to, and destructive of the interests of the other two ; for 
the agriculturist must have high prices, or he can no 
longer meet the heavy demands upon the land ; but the mer- 
chant and the manufacturer are equally anxious for low 
prices at home, to enable them to compete with the foreigner 
abroad. Now, inasmuch as it is chiefly from our superiority 
in machinery, that we are stili able to command a prefer- 
ence of our articles in foreign markets, notwithstanding the 
state of high prices at home, it follows that the means by 
which that superiority is preserved, should be most jealously 
guarded, and like a productive patent, kept as far as pos- 
sible, exclusively to ourselves. So unbounded is the power 
of machinery, that I have been informed, raw cotton is 
brought by a long and expensive voyage to England, 
wrought into yarn, and carried out to India, to supply the 
poor Hindoo with the staple commodity for his muslins of 
the finest fabric: and this yarn, after having performed two 
voyages, we can supply him w r ith cheaper than he himself 
can spin it. although he is contented with a diet of rice an J 
water, ana a remuneration of about one penny per day 
Aoid I have heard a lace manufacturer in the west of Eng 
• The engines framed to batter our own wall*.— Pu». 



L A C O N . 24j 

dients wer e the ftnd, dilemmas and depravities have 
been the blossom, and danger and despair are the 
bitter fruit : i r ad ice in tartar a tendit?* 



It is best, if possible, to deceive no one ; for he 
that like Mahomet or Cromwell, begins by deceiv- 
ing others, will end like these, by deceiving him- 
self; should it be absolutely necessary to deceive 
our enemies, there may be times when this cannot 
be effectually accomplished without deceiving at 
the same time our friends ; for that which is known 
to our friends, will not long be concealed from our 
enemies. Lord Peterborough persuaded Sir Ro- 
bert Walpole that Swift had seen the folly of his 
old political principle s r and had come over to those 
of the administration ; that he found himself buried 
alive in Ireland, and wished to pass the remainder 
of his days with English preferment and on Eng- 
lish ground. After frequent importunities from his 
lordship, Sir Robert consented to see Swift. He 
came over from Ireland, and was- brought by Lord 
Peterborough to dine with Sir Robert at Chelsea. 
His manner was veiy captivating, full of respect to Sir 
Robert, and completely imposing on Lord Peterbo- 
rough ;. but we shall see in the sequel, that Swift 
had ruined himself by not attending to the maxim, 
that it is necessary at times to deceive our friends 
as well as our enemies. Sometime after dinner, 
Sir Robert retired to his closet, and sent for Lord 
Peterborough, who entered full of joy at Swift's 
demeanour ; but all this was soon done away ; 

land affirm, that one pound of raw cotton has been spun by 
machinery into yam so fine, that it would reach from Lon- 
don to Edinburgh. 

* Its roots reach down to hell. — Pub. 
.21* 



£46 J, A C If. 

*Ybn see, my lord.' said Sir Robert, 'how bi 
I stand in Swift's favour.' ; Yes,' replied Lord 
Peterborough, 'and I am confident he means ail 
Le says.' Sir Robert proceeded : ' In my situation, 
assailed as I am by false friends and real enemies, 
I hold it my duty, and for the king's benefit, to 
watch correspondence ; this letter I caused to be 
stopped at the post-office — read it.' It was a letter 
from Swift to Dr. Arbuthnot, saying that Sir Ro- 
bert had consented to see him at last ; that he 
knew no flattery was too gross for Sir Robert, and 
that he should receive plenty, and added, that he 
hoped very soon to have the old fox in his clutches. 
Lord Peterborough was in astonishment : Sir Ro- 
bert never saw Swift again. He speedily returned 
to Ireland, became a complete misanthrope,* and 
died without a friend. 



In the superstitious ritual of the church of 
Rome, the Pope has not the poor merit of invent- 
ing that mummery by which he reigns. The Ro- 
man church professes to have a Christian object 
of adoration, but she worships him with Pagan 

* He did not open his lips, except en one occasion, for 
seven years. It would seem that he had a melancholy 
foreboding of his fate, for on seeing an old oak. the heaii 
of which was withered, he feelingly exclaimed. ' I shall be 
like that tree — I shall die at the top. ; The following lines 
in Hypocrisy, allude to this circumstance : — 

1 Then ask not length of days, that gifiless gift. 
More pleased like Wolfe to die, than live like SwiA; 
He. with prophetic plaint, his doom divin'd, 
The body made the living tomb of mind ; 
Rudder and compass srone, of thought and speech, 
He lav a misrhtv wreck, on wisdom's K°ach ! : 



L A C O X . £47 

forms.* She retains the ancient custom of build- 
ing temples with a position to the east. And what 
are her statues, her incense, her pictures, her im- 
age worship, her holy water, her processions, her 
prodigies, and her legerdemain, but religious cus- 
toms, which have survived the policy of imperial 
Rome, but which caused that metropolis, when she 
became pontifical, to receive popery as an ally, not 
to submit to it as a sovereign. 



Matrimony is an engagement which must last 
the life of one of the parties, and there is no 
retracting, ' vestigia nulla retrorsum;'j therefore, to 
avoid all the horror of a repentance that comes too 
late, men should thoroughly know the real causes 
that induce them to take so important a step, before 
they venture upon it. Do they stand in need of a 
wife, an heiress, or a nurse ? Is it their passions, 
their wants, or their infirmities, that solicit them to 

* I shall quote the following remarks from the learned 
author of the Dissertation on the Olympic Games. ( Thus 
were the two most powerful and martial states of Greece 
subjected in their turn, to the authority of a petty and an- 
warlike people; this possibly we should have some diffi- 
culty to believe, were there not many modern examples of 
mightier, if not wiser nations, than either of the two above 
mentioned, having been awed into a submission to a power 
still more insignificant than that of Elis, by the same edge- 
less arms, the same brntum fulmen* Whether the thun- 
ders of the Vatican were forged in imitation of those of 
the Olympian Jupiter, I will not determine, though I must 
take notice that many of the customs and ordinances of the 
Roman church allude most evidently to many practised in 
the Olympic stadium, as, extreme unction, the palm, the 
crown' of martyrs, and others, as may be seen at large in 
Fabers Agonisticon.' 

t No step backward. — Pub. 

* Pointless tluir.de rboits — -Pub. 



MS LACOtf, 

wed ? Are they candidates for that happy state, 
'propter opus, opes, sed opemV* according to tho 
epigram. These are questions much more proper 
to be proposed before men go t6< the altar, than after 
it ; they are points which, well ascertained, would 
prevent many disappointments, often deplorable* 
often ridiculous, always remediless. We should 
not then see young spendthrifts allying them- 
selves to females who are not so, only because 
they have nothing to expend ; nor old debauchees 
taking a blooming beauty to their bosom, when 
an additional flannel waistcoat would have been a 
bedfellow much more salutary and appropriate. 

Yillany that is vigilant, will be an overmatch for 
virtue, if she slumber on her post ; and hence it is, 
that a bad cause has often triumphed over a good 
one ; for the partisans of the former, knowing that 
their cause will do nothing for them, have done 
every thing for their cause ; whereas the friends 
of the latter are too apt to expect every thing from 
their cause, and to do nothing for themselves. 

War is a game in which princes seldom win, the 
people never. To be defended, is almost as great 
an evil as to be attacked; atid the peasant has 
often found the shield of a protector, no less op- 
pressive than the sword of an invader. Wars of 
opinion, as they have been the most destructive, 
are also the most disgraceful of conflicts ; being 
appeals from right to might, and from argument to 
artillery ; the fomenters of them have considered 
the raw material, man, to have been formed for no 
worthier purposes than to fill up gazettes at homa 

* For work, or wealth) or aid.— Pun, 



LACQN, ^49 

with their names, and ditches abroad with tneir 
bodies. Let us hope that true philosophy, the 
joint offspring of a religion that is pure, and of a 
reason that is enlightened, will gradually prepare a 
better order of things, when mankind will no longer 
be insulted, by seeing bad pens mended by good 
g words, and weak heads exalted by strong hands. 

Powerful friends, and first-rate connexions, often 
assist a man'-s rise, and contribute to his promo- 
tion; but there are many instances wherein all 
these things have acted as impediments against 
him, * ipsa, sibi obstat magnUudo?* for our very 
greatness may prevent its own aggrandizement, 
and be kept down by its own weight, ' mole ruit 
suo.'f It is well known that the conclave of car- 
dinals w r ere extremely jealous of permitting a 
Jesuit to fill the apostolic chair, because that body 
was already too powerful and overbearing ; dignus 
scd jesuita% esi^ w 7 as a common maxim of the Vati- 
can ; the fact is, that men like to retain s( me little 
powder and influence over those whom they aggran- 
dize and advance ; and hence it happens that 
great talents, supported by great connexions, are 
not unfrequently passed over, for those that are less 
powerful but more -practicable; and less exalted, 
but more manageable and subservient. 

* Its own greatness is an obstacle. — Pen. 

t Us own weight pulls it down. — Pub. 

% The talent for intrigue which distinguished that so- 
ciety, became at length so brilliant, as to consume itself. 
Of this most extraordinary offspring of Loyola, many will 
be inclined to repeat, i urit enim fulgore suo ;'* but few 
will be ready to add, ' extinctus amabitur idem.'l 

% He is worthy, but a Jesuit,~-~PvB. 

" It burns with its own brightness.— Pub. 

t When dead he will be regarded. — Peal 



,250 LAC^H, 

On reflecting upon all the frauds and deceptions 
that have succeeded in duping mankind, it is really 
astonishing, upon how very small a foundation, an 
immense superstructure may be raised. The solu- 
tion of this may perhaps be found in that axiom of 
the atomists : That there must ever be a much greater 
distance between nothing, and that which is least, 
than between that which is least, and the greatest. 

Matches-; wherein one party is all passion, and 
the other all indifference, will assimilate about as 
well as ice and fire. It is possible that the fire 
will dissolve the ice, but it is must probable that it 
will be extinguished in the attempt. 

It is only when the rich are sick, that they fully 
feel the impotence of wealth. 

The keenest abuse of our enemies, will not hurt 
us so much in the estimation of the discerning, as 
the injudicious praise of our friends. 

This world cannot explain its own difficulties, 
without the assistance of another. 

In the constitution* both of our mind and of our 
body, every thing must go on right, and harmo- 
nize weir together to make us happy ; but should 
one thing go wrong, that is quite enough to make- 
us miserable ; and although the joys of this world 
are vain and short, yet its sorrows are real and 
lasting ; for I will show you a tun of perfect pain, 
with greater ease than one ounce of perfect pleas- 
ure ; and he knows little of himself, or of the 
world, who does not think it sufficient happiness to 
be free from sorrow ; therefore, give a wise mao 
health, and he will give himself every other thing 



LA COX. Vl\ 

I say, give him health, for it often happens that 
the most ignorant empiric can do us the greatest 
harm, although the most skilful physician knows 
not how to do us the slightest good. 

The advocate for torture would wish to see the 
strongest hand joined to the basest heart, and the 
weakest head. Engendered in intellectual, and 
carried on in artificial darkness, torture is a trial, 
not of guilt, but of nerve, not of innocence, but of 
endurance ; it perverts the whole order of things, 
for it compels the weak to arBrm that which is 
false, and determines the strong to deny that which 
is true.; it converts the criminal into the evidence, 
the judge into the executioner, and makes a direr 
punishment than would follow guilt, precede it. 
When under the cloak of religion, and the garb 
of an ecclesiastic, torture is made an instrument 
of accomplishing the foulest schemes of worldly 
ambition, it then becomes an atrocity that can be 
described or imagined, only where it has been seen 
and felt. It is consolatory to the best sympathies 
■of our nature, that the hydra head of this monster 
has been broken, and a triumph over her, as 
bright as it is bloodless, obtained in that very coun- 
try, whose aggravated wrongs had well nigh made 
vengeance a virtue, and clemency a crime. 

A semi-civilized state of society, equally re- 
moved from the extremes of barbarity and of refine- 
ment, seems to be that particular meridian, under 
which all the reciprocities and gratitudes of hospi- 
tality do most readily flourish and abound. It so 
happens, that the ea& ;, the luxury, and the abun- 
dance of the highest state of civilization, are as 
productive of selfishness, as the difficulties, the 



252 L A & O N* 

privations and sterilities of the lowest . In a com 
munity, just emerging from the natural state to 
the artificial, and from the rude to the civilized, the 
wants and the struggles of the individual will compel 
the most liberal propensities of our nature to begin 
at home, and too often end where they began ; 
the history of our own country will justify these 
conclusions, for as civilization proceeded, and prop- 
erty became legalized and extended, the civil and 
ecclesiastical impropriators of the soil, set an ex- 
ample of hospitality, coarse indeed, and indiscrim- 
inating, but of unrivalled magnificence, from the 
extent of its scale, if not from the elegance of its 
arrangements. The possessor had no other mode 
of spending his vast revenues. The dissipations, 
the amusements, and the facilities of intercourse, 
to be met with in large towns and cities, were 
unknown. He that wanted society, and who that 
can have it, wants it not? cheerfully opened his 
cellars, his stables, and his halls ; the retinue be- 
came as necessary to the lord, as the lord to the 
retinue ; and the parade and splendour of the chase, 
were equalled only by the prodigality and the pro- 
fusion of the banquet. As the arts and sciences 
advanced, and commerce and manufactures im- 
proved, a new state of things arose. The refine- 
ments of luxury enabled the individual to expend 
the whole of his income, however vast, upon him- 
self; and hospitality immediately yielded to parsi- 
mony, and magnificence to meanness. The Croe- 
sus of civilization can now wear a whole forest in 
his pocket, in the shape of a watch, and can carry 
the produce of a whole estate upon his little finger, 
in the shape of a ring ; he can gormandize a whole 
ox at a meal, metamorphosed into a turtle, and v ash 



L A (_■' < ) > r . 252 

it iinvn with a whole butt of October, co/nlensed 

into a flagon of tokay ; and he can conclude these 
feats, by selling the whole interests of a kingdom 
for a bribe, and by putting the costly price of his 
delinquency in a snuff-box. 

Modern criticism discloses that which it would 
fain conceal, but conceals that which it professes 
to disclose ; it is therefore read by the discerning, 
not to discover the merits of an author, but the mo 
lives of his critic. 

Living kings receive more flattery than they 
deserve, but less praise. They are flattered by 
sycophants, who, as they have their own interest 
at heart, much more than that of their master, are 
far more anxious to say what will be profitable to 
themselves, than salutary to him. But the high- 
minded and independent, although they will be the 
first to perceive, and the fittest to appreciate the 
sterling qualities of a sovereign, will be the last to 
applaud them, while he fills a throne. The rea- 
sons are obvious ; their praises would neither be 
advantageous to the monarch, nor creditable to 
themselves. Not advantageous to the monarch, be- 
cause however pure may be the principles of their 
admiration, the world will give them no such credit, 
but will mix up the praises of the most disinter- 
ested with the flatteries of the most designing, 
wherever a living king is the theme ; neither will 
such praises be creditable to those who bestow 
them, for they will be sure to incur the obloquy of 
flattery, without the wages of adulation, and will 
share in the punishment, without participating in 
the spoil or concurring in the criminality. None 
therefore but those who have established the high- 
22 



254 LAC ON. 

est character for magnanimity and independence, 
. may safely venture to praise living merit, when in 
the person of a king,* it gives far more lustre to a 
crown than it receives. 



If we steal thoughts from the moderns, it will 
be cried down as plagiarism ; if from the ancients, 
it will be cried up as erudition. But in this respect, 
every author is a Spartan, being more ashamed of 
the discovery, than of the depredation. Yet the 
offence itself may not be so heinous as the manneT 
of committing it ; for some, as Voltaire,! not only 
steal, but, like the harpies, befoul and bespatter 
those whom they have plundered. Others, again, 
give us the mere carcass of another man's thoughts, 
but deprived of all their life and spirit, and this is 
to add murder to robbery. I have somewhere seen 
it observed, that we should make the same use of 
a book, as a bee does of a flower ; she steals 
sweets from it, but does not injure it ; and those 
sweets she herself improves and concocts into 
honey. Most plagiarists, like the drone, have 
neither taste to select, industry to acquire, nor skill 
to improve, but impudently pilfer the honey ready 
prepared, from the hive. 

* What has been said of happiness, with, regard to men, 
may be said of praise with respect to monarchs, with a 
slight alteration : — 

1 Dicique Celebris, 
Ante obitum, nemo, supremaque funera debet/* 
t He robbed Shakspeare, and then abused him, compar- 
ing him, among other things, to a dunghill. It was in al- 
lusion to these plagiarisms, that Mrs. Montague retorted 
upon Voltaire, that if Shakspeare was a dunghill, he had 
enriched a very ungrateful soil. 

• Let none be called famous before his death,— Pui. 



LA CON. 255 

Custom is the law of one description of fools, 
and fashion of another; but the two parties often 
clash ; for precedent is the legislator of the first, 
and novelty of the last. Custom, therefore, looks 
to things that are past, and fashion to things that 
are present, but both of them are somewhat pur- 
blind as to things that are to come; of the two, 
fashion imposes the heaviest burden ; for she cheats 
her votaries of their time, their fortune, and their 
comforts, and she repays them only with the cele- 
brity of being ridiculed and despised ; a very par- 
adoxical mode of remuneration, yet always most 
thankfully received ! Fashion is the veriest god- 
dess of semblance and of shade; to be happy, is 
of far less consequence to her worshippers, than to 
appear so ; even pleasure itself they sacrifice to 
parade, and enjoyment to ostentation. She requires 
the most passive and implicit obedience, at the 
same time that she imposes a most grievous load 
of ceremonies, and the slightest murmurings would 
only cause the recusant to be laughed at by all 
other classes, and excommunicated by his own. 
Fashion builds her temple in the capital of some 
mighty empire, and having selected four or five 
hundred of the silliest people it contains, she dubs 
them with the magnificent and imposing title of the 
world ! But the marvel and the misfortune is, that 
this arrogant title is as universally accredited by 
the many who abjure, as by the few who adore 
her ; and this creed of fashion, requires not only 
the weakest folly, but the strongest faith, since it 
would maintain that the minority are the whole, 
and the majority are nothing! Her smile has 
given wit to dulness, and grace to deformity, and 
has brought every thing into vogue, by turns, 



256 LACO N . 

but virtue. Yet she is most capricious in her 
favours, often running from those that pursue her, 
and coming round to those that stand still. It 
were mad to follow her, and rash to oppose her, 
but neither rash nor mad to despise her. 



Logic and metaphysics make use of more tools 
than all the rest of the sciences put together, and 
do the least work. A modern metaphysician had 
been declaiming before a large party, on the excel- 
lence of his favourite pursuit ; an old gentleman 
who had been listening to him with the most vora- 
cious attention, at length ventured humbly to 
inquire of him, whether it was his opinion that the 
metaphysics would ever be reduced to the same 
certainty and demonstration as the mathematics ? 
'Oh! most assuredly,' replied our oracle, 'there 
cannot be the slightest doubt of that !' The 
author of this notable discovery must have known 
more of metaphysics than any other man, or less 
of mathematics ; and I leave my readers to decide, 
whether his confidence was built on a profound 
knowledge of the one, or a profound ignorance of 
the other. 

That which we acquire with the most difficulty, 
we retain the longest, as those who have earned a 
fortune, are usually more careful of it, than those 
who have inherited one. It is recorded of Pro- 
fessor Porson,* that he talked his Greek fluently, 
when he could no longer articulate in English. 

* The professor was remarkable for a strong memory, 
which was not so puzzling as the great perfection of ius 
other faculties; for, to the utter confusion of all cTaniolo- 
gists, on examination after death, it turned out that this 



LAO ON. 257 

Falsehood is often rocked by truth, but she soon 
outgrows her cradle, and discards her nurse. 



The straits of Thermopyla? were defended by 
only three hundred men, but they were all Spar- 
tans ; and, in advocating our own cause, we ought 
to trust rather to the force, than to the number of] 
our arguments, and to care not how few they be, 
should that few be incontrovertible; when we hear 
one argument refuted, we are apt to suspect that 
the others are weak ; and a cause that is well sup- 
ported, may be compared to an arch that is well 
built — nothing can be taken away without endan- 
gering the whole. 



Literature has her quacks no less than medi 
cine, and they are divided into two classes ; those 
who have erudition without genius, and those who 
have volubility without depth : we shall get second- 
hand sense from the one, and original nonsense 
from the other. 



It is common to say, that a liar will not be 
believed, although he speak the truth ; the con- 
verse of this proposition is equally true, but more 
unfortunate ; that a man who has gained a reputa- 
tion for veracity will not be discredited, although 
he should utter that which is false ; but he that 
would make use of a reputation for veracity, to 

great scholar was gifted with the thickest scull that ever 
was dissected. How his vast erudition could £et into such 
a receptacle, was the only difficulty to be explained ; but, 
when once in, it seems there were very -solid and substan- 
tial reasons to prevent its getting out again. 



tsr LA CON. 

establish a lie, would set fire to the temple of truth, 
with a fagot stolen from her altar. 



Some read to think, these are rare ; some to 
write, these are common ; and some read to talk, 
and these form the great majority. The first page 
of an author not unfrequently suffices all the pur- 
poses of this latter class, of whom it has been said, 
they treat books as some do lords ; they inform 
themselves of their titles, and then boast of an in- 
timate acquaintance. 

The two most precious things on this side the 
grave are our reputation and our life. But it is (o 
be lamented that the most contemptible whisper 
may deprive us of the one, and the weakest 
weapon of the other. A wise man, therefore, will 
be more anxious to deserve a fair name, than to 
possess it, and this will teach him so to live, as not 
to be afraid to die. 



He that places himself neither higher nor lower 
than he ought to do, exercises the truest humility ; 
and few things are so disgusting as the arrogant 
affability of the great, which only serves to show 
others the sense they entertain of their inferiority, 
since they consider it necessary to stoop so low to 
meet it. A certain prelate, now no more, happened 
to meet at a large party, his old collegiate acquaint- 
ance, the celebrated Dr. G., of coursing and clas- 
sical notoriety. Having oppressed the doctor with 
a plentiful dose of condescension, his lordship, 
with a familiarity evidently ailbctcd, inquired of 



L A C O N . 230 

the doctor, how long it might be since they had 
last the pleasure of seeing one another ? ' The 
last time I had the honour of seeing your lord- 
ship,' said the doctor, ' happened to be when you 
were walking to serve your curacy at Trumping- 
ton, and I was riding to serve rny church at Ches- 
terford ; and as the rain happened to be particularly 
heavy, your lordship most graciously condescended 
to mount my servant's horse. The animal not 
having been used to carry double, was unruly, and 
when your lordship dismounted, it was at the 
expense of no small number of stitches in your 
small-clothes. I felt not a little embarrassed for 
your lordship, as you had not then an apron to 
cover them ; but I remember that you soon set me 
at ease, by informing me, that a sermon, enclosing 
some black thread and a needle, were three articles 
which you never travelled without ; on hearing 
which, I ventured to congratulate your lordship on 
the happy expedient you had hit upon for giving a 
connected thread to your discourse, and some 
polish no less than point to your arguments.' — His 
lordship was never afterwards known to ask an old 
friend how long it was since he had last the pleasure 
of seeing him. 



Most females will forgive a liberty, rather than a 
slight, and if any woman were to hang a man for 
stealing her picture, although it were set in gold, it 
would be a new case in law ; but if he carried oft' 
the setting, and left the portrait, I would not answer 
for his safety, even if Alley were his pleader, and 
a Middlesex jury his peers. The felon would be 
doomed to feci experimentally, the force of two 



2G0 LAUUK. 

lines of the poet, which, on this occasion, I shall 
unite : — 

{ Fcemina quid possil, 

4 Sprct&que injuria forma?** 



Habit will reconcile us to every thing but change, 
and even to change, if it recur not too quickly. 
Milton, therefore, makes his hell an ice house, as 
well as an oven, and freezes his devils at one 
period, but bakes them at another. The late Sir 
George Staunton informed me, that he had visited 
a man in India, who had committed a murder, and 
in order not only to save his life, but what was of 
much more consequence, his caste, he submitted to 
the penalty imposed ; this was, that he should 
sleep for seven years on a bedstead, without any 
mattress, the whole surface of which was studded 
with points of iron resembling nails, but not sc 
sharp as to penetrate the flesh. Sir George saw 
him in the fifth year of his probation, and his skin 
Avas then like the hide of a rhinoceros, but more 
callous ; at that time, however, he could sleep 
comfortably on his * bed of thorns,' and remarked 
that at the expiration of the term of his sentence, 
he should most probably continue that system from 
choice, which he had been obliged to adopt from 
necessity. 



Those Avho have a thorough knowledge of the 
human heart, will often produce all the best effects 
of the virtues, by a subtle appeal to the vanities of 
those Avith whom they have to do ; — and can cause 
the very weakness of our minds, indirectly, to 

* What things a woman, when despised?, can (iO.~~¥vb. 



LAC OX. 261 

contribute to the furtherance of measures, from 
whose strength the powers of our minds would 
perhaps reccil, as unequal and inefficient. A 
preacher in the neighbourhood of Blackfriars, not 
undeservedly popular, had just finished an exhor- 
tation strongly recommending the liberal support of 
a certain very meritorious institution. The con- 
gregation was numerous, and the chapel crowded 
to excess. The discourse being finished, the plate 
was about to be handed round to the respective 
pews, when the preacher made this short address 
to the congregation : ' From the great sympathy I 
have witnessed in your countenances, and the 
strict attention you have honoured me with, there 
is only one thing I am afraid of; that some of you 
may feel inclined to give too much ; now it is my 
duty to inform you, that justice, though not so 
pleasant, yet should always be a, prior virtue to 
generosity; therefore, as you will all immediately 
be waited upon in your respective pews, I wish to 
have it thoroughly understood, that no person will 
think of putting any thing into the plate, who cannot 
pay his debts.'' 1 need not add, that this advice 
produced a most overflowing collection. 



Little errors ought to be pardoned, if committed 
by those who are great, in things that are greatest. 
Paley once made a false quantity in the church of 
St. Mary's ; and Bishop Watson most feelingly 
laments the valuable time he w r as obliged to squan- 
der away, in attending to such minutics. ?> T othing, 
however, is more disgusting than the triumphant 
growings of learned dunces, if by any chance they 
can fasten a slip or peccadillo of this kind, upon an 
illustrious name. But these spots in the sun, they 



262 LA CON. 

should remember, will be exp6&'tf o^ily by those 
who have made use of the smoky glass of envy or 
of prejudice ; it is to be expected that these 
trifles should have great importance attached to 
them by such men, for they constitute the little 
intellectual all of weak minds, and if they had not 
them, they would have nothing. But he, that like 
Paley, has actually measured living men, may be 
allowed the privilege of an occasional false quanti 
ty in dead languages ; and even a false concord in 
words, may be pardoned in him] who has produced 
a true concord between such momentous things a3 
the purest faith and the profoundest reason. 



Nobility is a river that sets with a constant and 
undeviating current, directly into the great Pacific 
ocean of time ; but, unlike all other rivers, it is 
more grand at its source, than at its termination. 



The greatest difficulty in pulpit eloquence, is to 
give the subject all the dignity it so fully deserves, 
without attaching any importance to ourselves ; 
some preachers reverse the thing ; — they give so 
much importance to themselves, that they have- 
none left for the subject. 

Ingratitude in a superior, is very often nothing 
more than the refusal of some unreasonable re- 
quest ; and if the patron does too little, it is not 
unfrequently because the dependant expects too 
much. A certain pope, who had been raised from 
an obscure situation, to the apostolic chair, was 
immediately waited upon by a deputation sent from 
a. small district, in which he had formerly officiated 
as cure. It seems that he had promised the 



inhabitants that lie would do something for them, 
if it should ever be in his power; and some of 
them now appeared before him, to remind him of 
his promise, and also to request that he would fulfil 
it by granting them two harvests in every year ! 
He acceded to this modest request on condition 
that they should go home immediately, and so 
adjust the almanack of their own particular district, 
as to make every year of their register consist of 
twenty-four calender months. 

Those traitors, who know that they have sinned 
beyond forgiveness, have not the courage to be 
true to these, whom they presume are perfectly 
acquainted with the full extent of their treachery. 
It is conjectured that Cromwell would have pro- 
posed terms of reconciliation to Charles the Second, 
could he but have harboured the hope that he would 
forgive his father's blood ; and it was the height of 
wisdom in Cssar, to refuse to be as w^ise as he 
might have been, if he had not immediately burnt 
the cabinet of Pompey which he took at Pharsalia 



4 Noscitur a SociisJ* is a proverb that does not 
invariable apply ; for men of the highest talent 
have not always culled their familiar society 
from minds of a similar caliber with their own. 
There are moments of relaxation, when they prefer 
friendship to philosophy, and comfort to counsel. 
Fatigued by confuting the coxcombs, or exhausted 
by coping with the giants of literature, there are 
moments, when the brightest minds prefer the 
soothings of sympathy to all the brilliancy of wit, 

* He is known \y his company Pub. 



2m LACO If . 

as he that is hi need of repose, selects a bed of 
feathers, rather than of Hints. 



Polities and personalities will give a temporary 
interest to authors, but they must possess something 
more if thev would wish to render that interest 
permanent. I question whether Junius himself, 
had not been long since forgotten, if we could 
but have ascertained whom to forget ; but our 
reminiscences were kept from slumbering, chiefly 
because it was undetermined where they should 
rest. The letters of Junius* are a splendid monu 

* Tri rry humble opinion the talents of Junius have been 
ovej i at* r. Horn** Tooke gained a decisive victory over 
li iro ; - lorne was a host, and I have heard one who knew 
iii j hserve, that he was a man who felt nothing, 

r-:. = : reared nothing ; the person alluded to above, also in- 
formed me that Home Tooke on one occasion wrote a 
challenge to Wilkes, who was then sheriff for the county of 
Middlesex. Wilkes had signalized himself in a most deter- 
mined affair with Martin, on account of No. forty- five in 
the True Briton, and he wrote Home Tooke the following 
laconic reply to the challenge. * Sir, I do not think it my 
business to cut the throat of every desperado that may be 
tired of his life ; but as I am at present high sheriff for 
the city of London, it may happen that 1 may shortly have 
an opportunity of attending you in my official capacity, in 
which case I will answer for it,that you shall have no ground 
to complain of my endeavours to serve you. ; Probably it 
was about this time that Home Tooke on being asked by a 
foreigner of distinction, how much treason an Englishman 
might venture to write without being hanged, replied, 
that he could not inform him just yet, but that he was try- 
ing. To return to Junius, I have always suspected that 
those letters were written by some one who had either af- 
terwards apostatized from the principles which they con- 
tain, or who had been induced from mercenary and per- 
sonal motives, to advocate them with so much asperitjr, and 
that they were not avowed by the writer, merely because 
such an avowal would have detracted more from his repu- 



L a C .1. 265 

ment, an unappropriated cenotaph, which, like the 

pyramids of Egypt, derives much of its importance 
from the mystery in which the hand that reared it 
ls involved. 



Xo men deserve the title of infidels, so little as 
those to whom it has been usually applied ; let any 
of those who renounce Christianity, write fairly 
down in a book, all the absurdities that they believe 
instead of it, and they will find that it requires more 
faith to reject Christianity than to embrace it. 



The temple of truth is built indeed of stones of 
crystal, but, inasmuch as men have been concerned 
in rearing it, it has been consolidated by a cement, 
composed of baser materials. It is deeply to be 
lamented, that, truth herself will attract little atten- 
tion, and lesb esteem, until it be amalgamated with 
some particular party, persuasion, or sect; unmixed 
and adulterated, it too often proves as unlit for 
currency, as pure gold for circulation. Sir Walter 
Raleigh has observed, that he that follows truth 
too closely, must take care that she does not strike 
out his teeth ; he that follows truth too closely, 
has little to fear from truth, but he has much to 
fear from the pretended friends of it. He, there- 
fore, that is dead to all the smiles and to all the 
frowns of the living, alone is equal to the hazardous 
task of writing a history of his own times, worthy 
of being transmitted to times that are to come. 

tation as a man than it would have added to his fame as an 
author. This supposition has been considerably strengthen- 
ed bv a late very conclusive and well-reasoned volume, en- 
titled Junius Identified, published by Messrs. Taylor and 
Uessev. 

23 



tm LACON., 

Genius, when employed in works whose ten- 
dency it is to demoralize and to degrade us, should 
be contemplated with abhorrence rather than with 
admiration ; such a monument of its power, may 
indeed be stamped with immortality, but like the 
Colisaeum at Rome, we deplore its magnificence, 
because we detest the purposes for which it was 
designed. 



Anguish of mind has driven thousands to sui 
cide ; anguish of body, none. This proves, that 
the health of the mind is of far greater conse- 
quence than the health of the body, although both 
are deserving of much more attention than either of 
them receive. 



Intrigues of state, like games of whist, require a 
partner, and in both, success is the joint effect of 
chance and of skill ; but the former differ from the 
latter in one particular — -the knaves rule the kings. 
Count Stackelberg was sent on a particular em- 
bassy by Catherine of Russia, into Poland ; on 
the same occasion, Thurgut was despatched by 
the emperor of Germany. Both these ambassa- 
dors were strangers to each other. When the 
morning appointed for an audience arrived, Thurgut 
was ushered into a magnificent saloon, where, 
seeing a dignified looking man seated and attended 
by a number of Polish noblemen, who were stand- 
ing most respectfully before him, the German 
ambassador (Thurgut) concluded it was the king, 
and addressed him as such, with the accustomed 
formalities. This dignified looking creature turned 
out to be Stackelberg, who received the unex- 
pected homage with pride and silence. Soon after 



LACON. 267 

the king entered the presence chamber, and Thur- 
gut, perceiving his mistake, retired, much morti- 
fied and ashamed. In the evening, it so happened 
that both these ambassadors were playing cards 
at the same table with his majesty. The German 
envoy threw down a card, saying, ' The king of 
clubs !' ' A mistake !' said the monarch; ' it is the 
knave !' ' Pardon me, sire,' exclaimed Thurgut^ 
casting a significant glance at Stackelberg ; ' this 
is the second time to-day I have mistaken a knave 
for a king ! f Stackelberg, though very prompt at 
repartee, bit his lips, and was silent. 



As it is far mare difficult to be just, than to be 
generous, so also those will often find it a much 
harder task to punish than to pardon, who have 
both in their power. There is no one quality of the 
mind, that requires more resolution, and receives a 
less reward, than that prospective but ultimately 
merciful severity, which strikes the individual for 
the good of the community. The popular voice — 
the tears of relatives — the influence of rank — the 
eloquence of talent— ^may all conspire to recom- 
mend an act of clemency, in itself most grateful to 
the sympathies of one whose high situation has 
privileged him to exert it. What shall we put into 
the opposite scale ? The public good. But it may 
happen that the public themselves have signified 
their willingness to waive this high consideration. 
Here, then, the supreme head of the state is forced 
upon a trial almost too great for humanity ; he is 
called upon to sink the feelings of the man in the 
firmness of the magistrate, to sacrifice the finest 
sensibilities of the heart to the sternest dictates of 
ike headland to exhibit an integrity more pure than 



ms L A C Ji . 

the ice of Zeinbla, but as repulsive and as cwld. 
Those who can envy a sovereign so painful a pre- 
rogative, know little of others, and less of them- 
selves. Had Doctor Dodd* been pardoned, who 

* Many thinking persons lament that forgery should be 
punished "with death. If we consider forgery as confined to 
the notes of the bank of England, it has been universally eb- 
jected to them that they have hitherto been executed in so 
slovenly a manner, a>s to have become temptations to the 
crime. "This circumstance has been attended with another 
evil not quite so obvious ; it has given ground for a false 
-and cruel mode of reasoning ; it has been argued, that an of- 
fence holding out such facilities, can only be prevented by 
making the severest possible example of the offender ; but 
surely it would be more humane, and much more in the 
true spirit of legislation, to prevent the crime rather by re- 
moving .those facilities which act as -temptations to it, than 
bypassing a law for the punishment of it so severe that the 
very prosecutors shrink from the task of going the full ex- 
tent of its enactments, by perpetually permitting the delin- 
quents to plead guilty to the minor offence. In the particu- 
lar case of Dr. Dodd, these observations will not fully ap- 
ply; and the observation of Thurlow to his sovereign was in 
this correct, that all partial exceptions should be scrupu- 
lously avoided. I have however heard the late honourable 
Daines Barrington give another reason for Dodd's execu- 
tion. This gentleman also informed me that lie was pre- 
sent at the attempt to recover Dodd, which would have 
succeeded if a room had been iixed upon nearer the place 
of execution, as the vital spark was not entirely extinguished 
when the measures tor resuscitation commenced; but they 
ultimately failed, owing to the immense crowd which pre- 
vented the arrival of the hearse in proper time. A very 
feasible scheme had also been devised for the doctor's es- 
cape from Newgate. The outline of it, as I have had it from 
the gentleman mentioned above, was th is : There was a cer- 
tain woman in the lower walk of life, who happened to be 
in features remarkably like the doctor. Money Was not 
wanting, and she was engaged to wait on Dodd in New- 
gate, Mr. Kirby, at that time the governor :>f the prison, 
was inclined to show the doctor every civility compatible 
with his melancholy situation; amongst oilier indulgcn* 



LA CON. 269 

shall say bow many men of similar talents that 
cruel pardon might not have fatally ensnared. Elo- 
quent as he was, and exemplary as perhaps he 
would have been, an enlarged view of his case 
authorizes this irrefragable inference ; that the most 
undeviating rectitude, and the longest life of such a 
man, could not have conferred so great and so perma- 



ces, books, paper, pens, and a reading desk had been per- 
mitted to be brought to him; and it was not unusual for 
the doctor to be found by his friends, sitting at his reading 
desk, and dressed in the habiliments of his profession. 
The woman above alluded to was, in the character of a do- 
mestic, in the constant habit of coming in and out of the 
prison, to bring paper, linen, or other necessaries. The 
party who had planned the scheme of his escape, soon af 
ter the introduction of this female had been established, 
met together in a room near the prison, and requested the 
woman to permit herself to be dressed in the doctor's wig, 
gown, and canonicals; she consented; and in this dis- 
guise the resemblance was so striking, ' that it astonished 
all who were in the secret, and would have deceived any 
who were not. She was then sounded as to her willing- 
ness to assist in the doctor's escape, if she were well re- 
warded ; after some consideration she consented to play 
her part in the scheme, which was simply this, that on a 
day agreed upon, the doctor's irons having been previous- 
ly filed, she should exchange dresses, put on the doctor's 
gown and wig, and occupy his seat at the reading desk, 
while the doctor, suddenly metamorphosed into his own 
female domestic, was to have put a bonnet on his head, 
take a bundle under his arm, and walked coolly and qui- 
etly out of the prison. It is thought that this plan would 
have been crowned with success, if the Doctor himself* 
could have been persuaded to accede to it ; but he had all 
along buoyed himself up with the hope of a reprieve, and 
like that ancient general who disdained to owe a victory 
to a stratagem, so neither would the doctor be indebted 
for his life to a trick. The event proved that it was un- 
t >rtunatc that he should have had so many scruples on 
This occasion, and so few on another. 



270 LACO^. 

nmii a benefit on society, as that single sacrifice, hts 
death. On this memorable occasion, Europe saw 
the greatest monarch she contained, acknowledg- 
ing a sovereign, within his own dominions., greater 
than himself; a sovereign that triumphed not only 
over his power, but over his pity — -the supremacy 
of the laws. 

The praise of the envious is far less creditable 
than their censure; they praise only that which 
they can surpass,* but that which surpasses them — 
they censure. 

* Sir Joshua Reynolds had as few faults Its most men, 
but jealousy is the besetting sin of his profession, and Sir 
Joshua did not altogether escape the contagion. From 
some private pique or other, he was too apt to take every 
opportunity oi depreciating the merits of ^ Wilson, perhaps 
the first landscape painter of bis day. On a certain occa- 
sion, when some members of the profession were diseus- 
singthe respective merits of their brother artists. Sir Joshua, 
in the presence of Wilson, more pointedly than politely 
remarked, that Gainsborough was indisputably and beyond 
all comparison, the first landscape painter of the day ; now 
it will be recollected that Gainsborough was very far from a 
contemptible painter of portraits as well ; and Wilson im- 
mediately followed up the remark of Sir Joshua by saying, 
that whether Gainsborough was the first landscape painter 
or not of the day, yet there was one thing- in which all pre- 
sent, not excepting Sir Joshua himself, would agree, that 
Gainsborough, was the first portrait painter or the dav* 
without any probability of a rival. Here we see two men 
respectively eminent in the departments of their ait giving 
an undeserved superiority to a third in both ; but a supe- 
riority only given to gratify the pique of each, at the ex- 
pense of the feelings of the other. The late Mr. West was 
perfectly free from this nigra succus loliginisA This free- 
dom from all envy was not lost upon ilie discriminating 
head, and benevolent heart of our late sovereign. Sir Will- 
iam Beachy having just returned from Windsor, where 

* The blood of the black cuttle fish, (i. e, enry.>— Fira 



LA CON. 271 

Men arc more readily contented with no intel- 
lectual light than a little ; and wherever they have 
been taught to acquire some knowledge in order to 
please others, they have most generally gone on 
to acquire more, to please themselves. ' So for 
slialt thou go, but no farther? is as inapplicable to 
wisdom as to the wave. The fruit of the tree of 
knowledge may stand in the garden, undesi re d, only 
so long as it be untouched ; but the moment it is 
tasted, all prohibition will be vain. The present is 
an age of inquiry., and truth is the real object of 
many, the avowed object of all. But as truth can 
neither be divided against herself, nor rendered 
destructive of herself, as she courts investigation, 
and solicits inquiry, it follows that her worshippers 
must grow with the growth, strengthen with the 
strength, and improve with the advancement of 
knowledge. ' Quieta ne ?novetc J '* is a sound maxim 
Ibr a rolien cause. But there is a nobler maxim 
from a higher source, which enjoins us to try all 
things, but to hold fast that ichich is good. The 
day is past, when custom could procure acquies- 
cence ; antiquity, reverence ; or power, obedience 
to error; and although error, and that of the most 

he had enjoyed an interview with his late majesty, called 
on West in London. He was out, but drank tea with Mrs. 
West, and took an opportunity of informing her how very 
high Mr. West stood in the good opinion of his sovereign, 
who had particularly dwelt on Mr. West's entire freedom 
from jealousy or envy, and who had remarked to Sir 
William, that in the numerous interviews he had permit- 
ted to Mr. West, he had never heard him utter a single 
word detractory or deprcciative of the talents or merits of 
any one human being whatsoever. Mrs. West, on hear- 
ing this, replied with somewhat of plain sectarian blunt- 
ness : — * Go thou and do likewise.' 
* Disturb not what is qwiet. — Pub. 



272 LACON. 

bold and dangerous kind, lias her worshippers, in 
the very midst of us, yet it is simply and solely 
because they mistake error for truth. Show them 
their error, and the same power that would in vain 
compel them now to abjure it, would then as vainly 
be exerted in compelling them to adore it. But as 
nothing is more turbulent and unmanageable than a 
half enlightened population, it is the duty no less 
than the interest, of those who have begun to 
teach the people to reason, to see that they use 
that reason aright; for understanding, like happi- 
ness, is far more generally diffused, than the se- 
questered scholar would either concede or imagine. 
I have often observed this in the uneducated, that 
when another can give them true premises, they 
w T ill draw tolerably fair conclusions for themselves. 
But as nothing is more mischievous than a man 
that is half intoxicated, so nothing is more danger- 
ous than a mind that is half informed. It is this 
semi-scientific description of intellect that has 
organized those bold attacks, made, and still making, 
upon Christianity. The extent and sale of infidel 
publications are beyond all example and belief. This 
intellectual poison* is circulating through the low- 

* Mr. Bellamy, in a very conclusive performance, the 
Anti-deist does not attempt to parry the weapon, so much 
as to disarm the hand that wields it : for he does not ex- 
plain away the objections that have been advanced by the 
deist, but he labours rather to extirpate them, and to show 
that they have no other root but misconception or mistake. 
Mr. Bellamy's endeavours have had for their object the 
manifestation of the unimpeachable character and attri- 
butes of the great Jehovah, and the inviolable purity of the 
Hebrew text. Every Christian will wish success to such 
labours, and every Hebrew scholar will examine if they 
deserve it. I do not pretend or presume to be a competent 
judge of this most important question ; it is well worthy 



LAGUN. 273 

rcsl ramifications of society; fur it is presumed 
that if the root can be rendered rotten, the tower- 
ing tree must fall. The manufacture is well suited 



the attention of the profoundest Hebrew scholars in the 
kingdom. The Rabbi Meklolah, whose proficiency in the 
Hebrew language will give his opinions some weight, ad- 
mitted, in my presence, one very material point, that Mr. 
Bellamy had not prevented the signification of the sacred 
Ketib, or Hebrew text as far as he was able to decide. 
Should this author's emendations turn out to be correct, 
they should -be adopted, as no time and no authority can 
consecrate error. Mr Bellamy has met with patronage in 
the very highest quarter; a patronage liberal in every 
sense of the word; and as honourable to the patron as to 
the author. His alterations, I admit, are extremely nu- 
merous, important and consequential : but they are sup- 
ported by a mass of erudition, authority, and argument 
that does indeed demand our most serious attention ; and 
many, in common with myself, will lament that they have 
drank at the stream more freely than at the fountain. Mr. 
Bellamy contends, that he has not altered the signification 
of a single word in the original Hebrew text \ and he de- 
fends this position by various citations from numerous 
other passages, wherein he maintains that the same word 
carries the meaning he has given it in bis new version, 
but a meaning very often totally different from that of the 
version now in use. And it "is worthy of remark, that 
the new signification he would establish, while it rectifies 
that which was absurd, and reconciles that which was con- 
tradictory, is borne out by a similar meaning of the same 
word in various other passages which he adduces, that arc 
neither absurd nor contradictory. But if we would retain the 
word that he would alter, and apply it to the passages that he 
has cited, in the some sense that it carries in the disputed pas- 
sage in the old version, what will then be the consequence 1 
All the passages which before were plain and rational, be- 
come unintelligible; and the passage under consideration, 
which was before absurd or contradictory, will remain so. 
The points which Mr. Bellamy chiefiy labours to estab- 
lish ore the following: That the original Hebrew text is, 
at this moment, as pure as at the time of David : that 
sChrist and his apostles invariably quote frOfii the original 



274 LA CON. 

for the market, and the wares to the wants. T heser 
publications are put forth with a degree of flippam 
vivacity that prevents them from being dull, at the 
same time that they profess 10 be didactic, while 
their grand and all-pervading error, lies too deep to^ 
be detected by superficial observers ; for they draw 
somewhat plausible conclusions^froin premises that 
are false, and they have to do with a class of read- 
ers that concede to them the ' petitio principiij* 
without even knowing that it has been asked. It 

Hebrew: that the original Septuagint, finished under 
the patronage of Ptolemy Philadelphus, about three hun- 
dred and fifty years before Christ, was burnt in the Alex- 
andrian library: that the spurious Septuagint is a bad 
translation ; and, therefore, that all translations from it 
must partake of its imperfections: that the first Chris- 
tian churches, about one hundred and fifty years after the 
dispersion of the Jews,, had recourse to the : Greek transla- 
tion made by Aquila. In confirmation of these positions, 
Mr. Bellamy quotes Michaelis, Buxtorf, Lowth, Kenni- 
cott, Archbishops Newcombe, Seeker, and Usher, all pro- 
found Hebrew scholars, the latter of whom affirms, in 
one of his letters, ' that this spurious Septuagint of Aquila 
continually takes from, adds to, and changes the Hebrew 
text at pleasure ; that the original Septuagint was lost 
long ago ;, and that what has ever since gone under that 
name, is a spurious copy, abounding with omissions, addi- 
tions,, and alterations of the Hebrew text/ Mr. Bellamy's 
very arduous undertaking, has excited the greatest sensa- 
tion, both at home and abroad, and he must expect that a 
question involving such high and awful interests, will be 
most strictly scrutinized. Inasmuch as all his emenda- 
tions have for their object the depriving of the champion 
of infidelity of all just ground of cavil and objection, every 
Christian will sincerely wish him success, until it be clear- 
ly proved by competent Hebrew scholars, that he has 
touched the ark of God with unhallowed hands, either oy 
misrepresenting the signification, or by violating the purl* 
ty of the Hebrew text, { Sub ju dice lis csl.'i 
* Begging the question —Pub. 

ITbe case is before the jtirigs. — Ewi 



LA CON. 275 

wotild seem that even the writers themselves, are 
not always aware of the baseless and hollow ground 
upon which the foundation of their reasoning rests. 
If indeed their conduct did always arise from igno- 
rance, rather than from insincerity, we, as Chris- 
tians, must feel more inclined to persuade than to 
provoke them, and to hold the torch of truth to their 
minds rather than the torch of persecution to their 
bodies. In the nineteenth century, we would not 
recommend the vindictive and dogmatic spirit of a 
Calvin, nor the overbearing and violent temper of 
a Luther, but that charity ' which is not easily pro- 
voked? shining forth in the mild and accessible 
demeanour of an Erasmus, that would conceive, 
in order to conciliate, rather than convict, in order 
to condemn. It is for those who thrive by the 
darkness, to hurl their anathemas against the diffu- 
sion of light ; but wisdom, like a pure and bright 
conductor, can render harmless the ' brutum fid- 
men' of the Vatican. We hail the march of intel- 
lect, because we know, that a reason that is culti- 
vated, is the best support of a worship that is pure. 
The temple of truth, like the indestructible pillar 
of Smeaton, is founded on a rock; it triumphs 
over the tempest, and enlightens those very billows 
that impetuously but impotently rush on to over- 
whelm it. 



Those illustrious men, who like torches, have 
consumed themselves in order to enlighten others, 
have often lived unrewarded, and died unlamented. 
The tongues of afte vt ames have done them justice 
in one sense, but injustice in another. They have 
honoured them with their praise, but they have dis- 
graced them with their pity. They pity them for- 



278 L A C O N . 

sooth, because they missed of present praise, and 1 
temporal emolument; things great indeed to the lit- 
tle, but little to the great. Shall we pity a hero, 
because, on the day of victory, he had sacrificed a 
meal 1 And those mighty minds, whom these pig- 
mies presume to commiserate, but whom they 
cannot comprehend, were contending for a fur 
nobler prize than any which those who pity them, 
could either give or withhold. Wisdom was their 
object, and that object they attained ; she was their 
1 exceeding great reward? Let us therefore honour 
such men, if we can, and emulate them, if we 
dare ; but let us bestow our pity, not on them, but 
on ourselves, who have neither the merit to deserve 
renown, nor the magnanimity to despise it. 



To pervert the talents we have improved under 
the tuition of a party, to the destruction of that 
very party by whom they were improved, is an 
offence that generous and noble minds find it 
almost as difficult to pardon in others, as to commit 
in themselves. It is true that w r e are enjoined to 
forgive our enemies, but I remember no text that 
enforces a similar conduct with regard to our 
friends. David, we may remember, exclaimed, 
that if it had been his enemy who had injured him, 
he could have borne it, but it was his own familiar 
friend. ' We took, 9 says he, ' sweet counsel together, 
and walked in the house of God as friends 9 There- 
fore, to employ the powers of our mind to injure 
those to whom we are mainly indebted for the per- 
fection of those powers, is an act of ingratitude as 
monstrous as if Patroclus had attacked Achilles, 
in the very armour in which he had invested him 
for the destruction of Hector : — 



L'A*5'p#. mi 

6 Non has qucTstion munus in usus.'* 

It is Well known that Mr. Burkef on his first debut 
£h life, improved himself not a little, under the ban- 
ners and the patronage of the opposition ; for 
which purpose he was a constant frequenter of the 
various debates and disputations held at the house 
of one Jeacocke, a baker, but who, notwithstanding 
his situation in life was gifted with such a vein of 
eloquence, that he was unanimously constituted 
perpetual president of the famous disputing society 
held at Robin Hood, near Temple-bar. On a 
certain memorable occasion, in the house of com- 
mons, Air. Burke exclaiming, ' I quit the camp, 9 
suddenly left the opposition benches, and going 
over to the treasury side of the house, thundered a 
violent philipic against his former friends and 
associates. Mr. Sheridan concluded a spirited 
reply to that unlooked-for attack, nearly in the fol- 
lowing words :— s "That gentleman, to use his own 
expression, has quirted the camp ; but he will recol- 
lect that he has quitted as a deserter, and I 
sincerely hope he will never return as a spy. I 
for one,' he continued, ' cannot sympathize in the 
astonishment with which so flagrant an act of 
apostacy has electrified the house; for neither I 
nor that gentleman has forgotten from whom he 
has borrowed those weapons which he now 
uses against us. So far, therefore, from being 
astonished at that gentleman's present tergiversa- 
tion, 1 consider it to be not only characteristic, but 
consistent ; for it is but natural, that he who on 

* Hot for this 'purpose was the gift bestowed. — Pub. 

t Burke was one of the most yplendid specimens of Irish 
talent ; but his imagination too often ran away with his 
judgment, and his interest with both. 

24 



278 L A C O N . 

his first starting in life, could commit so gross a 
blunder as to go to the baker's for his eloquence, 
should conclude such a career, by coming to the 
house of commons for his bread.* 

As there are some sermons, that would have 
been sermons upon every thing, if the preachers 
had only touched upon religion in their variety, so 
there are some men, who would know a little of 
every thing, if they did but know a little of their 
own profession. And yet these men often succeed 
in life ; for as they are voluble and fluent, upon 
subjects that every body understands, the world 
gives them credit for knowledge in their own pro- 
fession, although it happens to be the only thing on 
which they are totally ignorant. Yet, if we choose 
to be sophistical, we might affirm that it requires 
more talent to succeed in a profession that we do 
not understand, than in one that we do ; the plain 
truth is, that it^does not require more talent, but 
more impudence ; and we have but little reason 
to pride ourselves upon a success that is indebted 
much more to the weakness of others, than to any 
strength of our own. 

Evidence* has often been termed the eye of the 

* I have said that evidence seldom deceives, or is de- 
ceived. In fact its very etymology would seem to indicate 
a something clearly perceived and ascertained, through 
the medium of the senses. And herein evidence, I must re- 
peat, differs most materially from testimony, which, as its 
derivation also clearly shows us, can be nothing more than 
the deposition of a witness, which deposition may be true 
or false, according to the will of him who testifies. No 
man can will that his own mind should receive one impres- 
sion, while his senses give him another, but any man may 
will that his tongue should communicate a different im- 
pression to the senses of others, from that which he has r$- 



LAC ON. £79 

law, and lass been too generally considered to be 
that which regulates the decision of all courts of 
ceivecl from his own. And hence it happens that a saga- 
cious and penetrating judge has got a very high kind of 
moral conviction, mure satisfactory, perhaps, and conclusive 
than the unsupported though positive oath of any one in- 
dividual whosoever ; I mean a connected chain of circum- 
stances, all pointing one way and leading the mind to one 
object ; a chain by wfiich truth has often been pumped 
up from her well, notwithstanding all the efforts of testimo- 
ny, to keep her at the bottom of it. Thus, in the case of Don- 
nellan, who was executed for poisoning Sir Theodosiirs 
Boughton with distilled laurel water, some circumstances 
were elicited that would have weighed more strongly in 
the judgment of reflecting minds, than any positive "but 
single affidavit which might have been brought to contra- 
dict them. A still, that had been recently used, was disco- 
vered on the premises. Donnellan was so bad a chymist, 
that on being asked for what purpose he had procured this 
machine, he replied, thai ' he had used it to make Vime-wa- 
ter to kill the fleas !' not knowing that lime-water could 
only be made by saturating water with lime, and that a still, 
never was, and never can be applied to such a purpose. In 
his library, there happened to be a single4iumber of the Phi- 
losophical Transactions, and of this single number the 
leaves had been cut only in one place, and this place hap- 
pened to contain an account of the mode of making laurel- 
water by distillation. The greatest discretion and shrewd- 
ness is necessary wherever circumstances point one way, 
and testimony another, since probable falsehood will always 
be more readily accredited than improbable truth : and it un- 
fortunately happens that there are occasions, where the 
strongest "circumstances have misled, as in that famous 
ease of the murdered iarnrer, recorded by Judge Hale. — 1 
have heard the late Dairies Harrington mention a very ex- 
traordinary circumstance, of a similar kind that took place, 
if I remember right, at Oxford, but it was prior even to 
his time, and I have forgotten the names of the parties. 
As the story may be new to some of my readers, I shall 
relate it as nearly as my memory serves. A country gentle- 
man was travelling from Berkshire, on horseback, to Lon- 
don; he had a friend with him and a servant, and they 
supped at the inn, and ordered beds for the night. At sup- 
per, his friend happened to observe to the gentleman] that 



2S0 LACOK. 

justice, that arc conducted with impartiality. Tlw 
term evidence, so applied, is a misnomer, since, 
from the very nature of things, evidence rarely, if 



it would be advisable to start early on the next morning, 
as it would be dangerous to go over Hounslow heath af- 
ter sunset he had so much property about him. This con- 
versation was overheard by the landlord, who assisted the 
gentleman's servant in waiting at the table. About the 
middle of the night the gentleman's companion thought he 
heard a noise in his friend's apartment, but it passed over, 
and he thought no more of it. Some little time afterwards, 
he was again disturbed by a similar noise, when he de- 
termined on entering the apartment. He did so, and the 
first object he saw, was the landlord with a lantern in his 
hand, and with a countenance of the greatest consternation, 
standing over the still bleeding and murdered body of his 
friend. On a still further search, it appeared that the 
gentleman had been robbed of all his properly, and a knife 
was discovered on the bed which was proved to be the 
property of the landlord. He was tried, condemned, and 
executed, and what was very remarkable, he admitted 
that he most justly deserved to suffer, although he per- 
sisted to the last moment in his entire innocence of the 
crime for which he was condemned. This mysterious 
affair was not explained until some years afterwards, 
when the gentleman's servant, on his deathbed, confess- 
ed that he was the man who had robbed and murdered 
his master. It would seem that hoik the landlord and 
the servant had nearly at the same time made up their 
minds to commit this dreadful deed, but without commu- 
nicating their intentions to each oilier, and that the one 
had anticipated the other by a few mjnutes. The conster- 
nation visible in the countenance of the landlord, his con- 
fused and embarrassed account of his intrusion into the 
chamber, and the cause that brought him there at such an 
hour, were all natural consequences of that alarm pro- 
duced by finding a fellow-creature, whom he had sallied 
forth at the dead of the night todestroy, weltering in blood, 
and already murdered to his hands; and the knife had 
involuntarily dropped from his arm, uplifted to strike, 
but unstrung; as it were, and paralyzed by the terror cxc.i- 
led fey so unexpected and horrifying a discovery. 



LAUUN. mi 

ever, either can or does appear in a court of jus- 
tice. We do not mean to quibble about, words, 
nor to split distinctions where there are no differ- 
ences. The eye of the law, however, happens 
unfortunately to be composed of something very 
different from evidence ; for evidence seldom de- 
ceives, or is itself deceived. The law is com- 
pelled to make use of an eye that is far more im- 
perfect, an eye that sometimes sees too little, and 
sometimes too much ; this eye is testimony. If a 
man comes in a court of justice, covered with 
wounds and bruises, I admit that the whole court 
has evidence before it, that the man has been 
beaten and mangled. Evidence is the impression 
made upon a man's own mind, through his own 
senses ; but testimony is the impression that he 
may clioose that his tongue should make upon the 
senses of others ; and here we have a very serious 
distinction not without a difference. Thus, for 
instance, if I see A murdered by B, I am satis- 
fied of that fact, and this is evidence ; but I may 
think tit to swear that he was murdered by C, and 
then the court are bound to be satisfied of that fact \ 
and this is testimony. 



There is a spot in Birmingham, where the steam 
power is concentrated on a very large scale, in 
order to be let out in small parts and parcels to 
those wdio may stand in need of it ; and something 
similar to this may be observed of the power of 
mind in London. It is concentrated and brought 
together here into one focus, so as to be at the ser- 
vice of all who may wish to avail themselves of it. 
Doctor Johnson was not far from the truth, when 
he observed, that he could sit in the smoky corner 
21* 



2S2 LACO N . 

of Bolt court, and draw a circle round Lima , of 
one mile in diameter, that should comprise and 
embrace more energy, ability, and intellect, than 
could be found in the whole island besides. The 
circumstance of talent of every kind being so 
accessible, in consequence of its being so contigu- 
ous, this it is that designates London as the real 
university of England. If we wish, indeed, to col- 
late manuscripts, we may repair to Oxford or to 
Cambridge, but we must come to London * if we 
would collate men. 



Men of enterprising and energetic minds, when 
buried alive in the gloomy walls of a prison, may 
be considered as called upon to endure a trial that 
will put all their strength of mind and fortitude to 
the test, far more than all the hazards, the dilem- 
mas, and the broils of the camp, the cabinet, or the 
cabal. I have often considered that the cardinal 
de Retz was never so great as on one occasion, 
which occurred at the castle of Yincennes. He 
was shut up in that fortress by his implacable ene- 
my Mazarin;f and on looking out of his grated 

* These observations do not at all inter lore with some for- 
mer remarks on the state of the hibuuring classes of the 
community in the metropolis ; but the scientific assortment, 
is of the highest order, and he that is great in London, will 
not be little any where. 

tThis same minister had shut up some other person in 
the bastile for a few years,, owing" to a trifling mistake in 
Ms name. He was at last turned out with as little ceremony 
as he was clapped in. The mistake was explained to him, 
on his dismissal ; but he received a gentle hint to beware of 
a very dangerous spirit of curiosity which he had evinced 
during his confinement. Not being over anxious again to 
trespass on the hospitalities of the bastile, he ventured to 
ask what involuntary proof he could have given of this very 



LA CON. 283 

window, to fan the burning fever of hope delayed, 
he saw some labourers busy in preparing a small 
plot of ground opposite to his apartment. When 
the person commissioned to attend him, brought in 
his breakfast, he ventured to inquire of hirn what 
those labourers were about whom he saw from his 
window; he replied, ■ They are preparing the ground 
for the reception of the seed of some asparagus, a 
vegetable of which we have heard that your excel- 
lency is particularly fond.' The cardinal received 
this appalling intelligence with a smile. 



Some have wondered how it happens that those 
who have shone so conspicuously at the bar, should 
have been eclipsed in the senate, and that the 
giants of Westminster Hall should have been mere 
pigmies* at St. Stephen's. That a successful foren- 
sic pleader should be a poor diplomatic orator, 
is no more to be wondered at, than that a good 
microscope should make a bad telescope. The 
mind of the pleader is occupied in scrutinizing 
minutiae, that of the statesman in grasping magiri- 

dangerous spirit of curiosity, in order that he might care- 
fully avoid such an offence in future ; he was then gravely 
told that he had on one occasion made use of these words 
to an attendant: ' I always thought myself the most insig- 
nificant fellow upon the face of the earth, and should be 
most particularly obliged to you if you could inform me by 
what possible means I ever became of sufficient conse- 
quence to be shut up in this place.' 

* Such men as Dunning, Sir Samuel Romilly, and Lord 
Erskine. form splendid exceptions to this general rule, and 
only serve to show the wonderful elasticity of the powers of 
the human mind. Wedderburn was not always so success- 
ful in the House as in the Hall; and ' Ilia sejaclcl in auto 
JKolusJi was a quotation not unhappily applied. 

t iEolus may swagger in his hall.— Vvn. 



9M LAC ON. 

tudes — the one deals in particulars, and the other 
in generals. The well-defined rights of individuals 
arc the province of the pleader, but the enlarged 
and undetermined claims of communities are the 
arena of the statesman. Forensic eloquence may 
be said to lose in comprehension, what it gains in 
acuteness, as an eye so formed as to perceive the 
motion of the hour-hand, would be unable to dis- 
cover the time of the day. We might also add, 
that a mind long hackneyed in anatomizing the 
nice distinctions of words, must be tne less able 
to grapple with the more extended oeanng of 
things ; and he that regulates mobt of his conclu- 
sions by precedent that is past, will be somewhat 
embarrassed, when he has to do with power thefis 
present. 



It has been urged that it is dangerous to enlighten 
the lower orders, because it is impossible to enlighten 
them sufficiently ; and that it is far more easy to 
give them knowledge enough to make them discon- 
tented, than wisdom enough to make them resigned ; 
since asmatterer in philosophy can see the evils of 
life, but it requires an adept in it to support them. 
To all such specious reasonings, two incontrover- 
tible axioms might be opposed, that truth and wis- 
dom are the firmest friends of virtue, ignorance 
and falsehood of vice. It will, therefore, be as 
hazardous as unad vis able, for any rulers of a 
nation to undertake to enlighten it, unless they 
themselves are prepared to bring their own exam- 
ple up to the standard of their own instructions, 
and to take especial care that their practice shall 
precede their precepts ; for a people that is enlight- 
ened, may follow, but they can no longer be led 



LACON, 885 

'True grentoess is that alone u iiich in allowed 
to be so, by the most great. ; and the difficulty of 
attaining perfection is best understood, only by 
those who stand nearest themselves unto it. As he 
•that is placed at a great dktance from aa object, 
is a bad judge of the relative space that separates 
other objects, comparatively contiguous, so also 
those that are a great way eff from excellence, are 
equally liable to be misled, as to the respective 
advances those who have nearly reached it have 
made. The combination of research, of deduc- 
tion, and of design, developing it&elf at last in the 
discovery of the safety-lamp for tins miner, and 
muzzling, as it were, in a metallic net, as tine as 
gossamer, the most powerful and destructive of 
the elements, was an effort .of the mind that can be 
fully appreciated ionly by those who are thoroughly 
aware of the vast difficulty of the end, and of the 
beautiful simplicity of the means. Sir Humphrey 
Davy will receive the eternal gratitude of the 
■most ignorant, but the civic crown he has so nobly 
.earned, will be placed upon his head by the admira- 
tion and the suffrages of the most wise. The truly 
igreat, indeed, are few in number, and slow to admit 
-superiority ; but, when once admitted, they do more 
homage to the greatness that overtops them, even 
than minds that are inferior and subordinate. In a 
former publication, I have related that I once went 
to see an exhibition of a giant : he was particularly 
tall and well -proportioned. I was much interested 
by a group of children who were brought into the 
loom, and I promised myself much amusement 
from the effect that the entrance of a giant would 
produce upon them. But I was disappointed, for 
tins Biobdigoag seemed to excite , a much less seu- 



286 L A U O-I*. 

nation thaa I had anticipated, in this young coterie 
of Lilliputians. 1 took a subsequent opportunity 
to express my astonishment on this subject to the 
giant himself, who informed me that he had inva- 
riably made the same remark, and that children, 
and persons of diminutive stature never expressed 
half the surprise or gratification on seeing tahn, that 
was evinced by those that are tall. The reason of 
this puzzled me a little^ until at last I began t& 
reflect that children \nd persons of small stature 
are in the constant habit of looking up at others, 
and therefore it costs them no trouble to look a 
little higher at a giant ; but those who are compar- 
atively tali, inasmuch as they ase in the constant 
habit of looking down upon all others, are beyond 
measure astonished, when they meet one whose 
very superior stature obliges them to look up ; and 
so it is with minds, for the truly great meet their 
equals rarely, their inferiors constantly, but when 
they meet with a superior, the novelty of such an 
intellectual phenomenon, serves only to increase 
its brilliancy, and to give a more ardent adoratioa 
to that homage which it commands. 



Nothing is so difficult as the apparent ease of a 
clear and flowing style; those graces, which from 
their presumed facility, encourage all to attempt aa 
imitation of them, are usually the most inimitable. 



The inhabitants of country towns will re- 
spectively inform you that their own is the most 
scandalizing little spot in the universe ; the plain 
fact is, that all country towns are liable to this 
imputation, but that each individual has seen the 
most of this spirit, in 'that, particular one in whkb 



L A C O X. 287 

he himself na$ most resided ; just so it is with 
historians; they all descant upon the superlative 
depravity of their own particular age ; but the 
plain fact is, that every age has had its depravity ; 
historians have only heard and read of the de- 
pravity of other ages, but they have seen and felt 
that of their own : — 

' Segnius irritant amnios demissa per aares, 
Quam quce sunt oculis subject a jidelibus? 

There is an idiosyncrasy* in mind, no less than in 
foody, for some individuals have a peculiar constitu- 
tion both of head and heart, that sets all analogy, 
and all calculation at defiance. There is an occult 
disturbing force within them, that designates them 
as unclassed anomalies and hybrids : they form 
the ' corps particulier' of exceptions to all general 
rules, being at times full as unlike to themselves 
as to others. No maxim, therefore, aphorism, or 
apothegm, can be so propounded as to suit all 
descriptions and classes of men ; and the moralist 
can advance such propositions only as will be 
found to be generally true, for none are so uni- 
versally ; those, therefore, that are inclined to cavil, 
might object to the clearest truisms, for \ all men 
must die,' or * oilmen must be born' are affirmations 
not wholly without their exceptions. Rochefou- 
cault has written one maxim, which, in my humble 
opinion, is worth all the rest that he has given us ; 
he says that ' hypocrisy is the homage which vice 

* 1 request all candir 1 readers to accept of the above re- 
flections as a general apology for any apparent deviations 
from correct remark in this work, until they have fully con- 
sidered whether my general rule be not right, although, in 
some cases, the exceptions to it may be numerous. 



£S3 L A tj o ff: 

pays tt> mr&m j but even tins lino, mrmrn hi &Bf 
universally true; cm the contrary, its very reverse 
sometimes has happened •> for there are instances 
where, to please a profligate superior, men have' 
affected some vices to which they were not in- 
clined, and thus have made their hypocrisy & 
homage paid by virtue to vice. 



There is no chasm in the ope rati cms of nature ; 
the mineral world joins the vegetable, the vegeta- 
ble the animal, and the animal the intellectual, by 
mutual but almost imperceptible gradations. The 
adaptations that each system makes to its neigh- 
bour are reciprocal, the highest parts of the lower 
ascending a little out of their order, to fill the 
receding parts of that which is higher, until the 
whole universe, like the maps that are made of it 
for the amusement of children, becomes one well 
arranged and connected whole, dovetailed as it 
were, and compacted together, by the advancement 
of some parts, and the retrocession of others. But 
although each system appears to be assimilated, 
yet is each essentially distinct ; producing as their 
whole, the grand harmony of things-. Man is that 
compound being, created to fill the wide hiatus 
that must otherwise have remained unoccupied, 
between the natural world and the spiritual ; and 
he sympathizes with the one in his death, and will 
be associated with the other by his resurrection. 
Without another state, it would be utterly impos- 
sible for him to explain the difficulties of this : 
possessing earth, but destined for heaven, he forms 
the link between two orders of being, and partakes 
much of the grossness of the one, and somewhat 



LA CON, m 

of die refinement of the other. Reason," like the 
magnetic influence imparted to iron, gives to matter, 
properties and powers which it possessed not 
before, but without extending its bulk, augmenting 
i-:s weight, or altering its organization ; like that 
to which I have compared it, it is visible only by 
its effects, and perceptible only by its operations. 
Reason, superadded to man, gives him peculiar 
and characteristic views, responsibilities, and des- 
tinations, exalting him above all existences that are 
visible, but which perish, and associating him with 
those that are invisible, but which remain. Reason 
is that Homeric and golden chain, descending 
from the throne of God even unto man, uniting 



*INo sound philosopher will confound instinct with rea- 
son, because an orang outang has used a walking stick, 
or a trained elephant a lever. Reason imparts powers that 
are progressive, and that, in many cases, without any 
assignable limit ; instinct only measures out faculties tha't 
arrive at a certain point, and then invariably stand still. 
Five thousand years nave added no improvement to the hive 
of the bee. nor to the house of the beaver ; but look at the 
habitations and achievements of man; observe reflection, 
experience, judgment, at one time enabling the head to save 
the hand : at another, dictating a wise and prospective 
economy, exemplified in the most lavish expenditure of 
means, but to be paid with the most usurious interest, by 
the final accomplishment of ends. "We might, also, add 
another distinction peculiar, I conceive, to reason: the de- 
liberate choice of a small present evil to obtain a greater dis- 
tant good: he. that on all necessary occasions can act upon 
this single principle, is as superior to other men, as other 
men to the brutes. And as the exercise of this principle 
is the perfection of reason, it happens also, as might have 
been anticipated, to form the chief task assigned us by re- 
ligion, and this task is in a great measure accomplished 
from the moment our lives exhibit a practical assent to one 
eternal and immutable truth : The necessary and final con~ 
merlon between happiness and virtu?, avA mkcry and vie*, 
25 



290 L A (J O N ; 

heaven with earth, and earth with heaven.—* 
For all is connected and without a chasm ; from 
an angel to an atom, all is proportion, harmony, 
and strength. But here we stop : — There is an 
awful gulf, that must be for ever impassable, infi- 
nite and insurmountable : the distance between the 
creetted and the Creator ; and this order of things is 
as fit as it is necessary ; it enables the Supreme* 
to exalt without limit, to reward without exhaustion, 
without a possibility of endangering the safety of 
his throne by rivalry, or tarnishing ks lustre by 
approximation. 



Time is the most unde finable yet paradoxical of 
things ; the past is gone, the future is not come, 
and the present becomes the past, even while we 
attempt to define it, and like the flash of the light- 
ning, at once exists and expires. Time is the mea- 
surer of all things, but is itself immeasurable, and 
.the grand discloser of all things, but is itself undis- 
closed. Like space^ it is incomprehensible, be- 
cause it has no limits, and it would be still more so, 
if it had.f It is more obscure in its source than 

t * The ancient sculptors and painters always designated 
their Jupiter with an aspect of placid and tranquil majesty, 
but with an attitude slightly bending and inclining forwards, 
as in the act of looking down upon the whole created uni- 
verse of thirgs. This circumstance, perhaps, suggested to 
Milton those noble lines : — 

1 Now had the Almighty Father, from above, 
From the bright Empyrean where he sits 
High thron'd above all height, cast down his eye, 
His own works, and man's works at once to view. 1 

t If we stand in the middle of a dark vista, with a lumi 
nous object at one end of it, and none at the other, the former 
will appear to be short, and the latter, long. And so per- 



LACON, SQi 

the Nile, and in its termination than the Niger ; and 
advances like the slowest tide, but retreats like the 
swiftest torrent. It gives wings of lightning to 
pleasure,- but feet of lead to pain, and lends expec- 
tation a curb, but enjoyment a spur. It robs beauty 
of her charms, to bestow them on her picture, and 
builds a monument to merit, but denies it a house ; 
it is the transient and deceitful flatterer of false- 
hood, but the tried and final friend of truth. Time 
is the most subtile, yet the most insatiable of depre- 
dators, and by appearing to take nothing, is permit- 
ted to take all, nor can it be satisfied, until it has 

haps it is with time : if we look back upon time that is past, 
we naturally fix our attention upon some event, with the 
circumstances of which we are acquainted, because they 
have happened, and this is that luminous object which ap- 
parently shortens one end of the vista ; but if we look for- 
ward into time that is to come, we have no luminous object 
on which to fix our attention, but alt is uncertainty, con- 
jecture and darkness. As to time without an end, and space 
without a limit, these are two things that finite beings can- 
not clearly comprehend. But if we examine more minutely 
into the operations of our own minds, we shall find that 
there are two things much more incomprehensible, and 
these are time that has an end, and space that has a limit. 
For whatever limits these two things, must be itself unlim- 
ited, and I am at a loss to conceive where it can exist, but 
in space and time. But this involves a contradiction, for 
that which limits, cannot be contained in that which is lim- 
ited. We know that in the awful name of Jehovah, the 
Hebrews combined the past, the present, and the future, 
and St. John is obliged to make use of a periphrasis, by the 
expressions of Who is, and was, and is to come ; ana Sir 
Isaac Newton considers infinity of space on the one hand, 
and eternity of duration on the other, to be the grand sen- 
sorium of the Deity : it is, indeed, a sphere that alone is 
worthy of Him who directs all the movements of nature, 
and who is determined by his own unalterable perfections, 
eventually to produce the highest happiness, by the best 
' jtummam fciicctatcm,, optimis modis. 



292 L A C O N . 

stolen the world from us, and us from the world. 
It constantly flies,yet overcomes all things by flight, 

and although it is the present ally, it will be the 
future conqueror of death. — Time, the cradle of 
hope, but the grave of ambition, is the stern cor- 
rector of fools, but the salutary counsellor of the 
wise, bringing all they dread to the one, and all they 
desire to the other ; but, like Cassandra, it wains 
us with a voice, that even the sagest discredit too 
long, and the silliest believe too late. Wisdom 
walks before it, opportunity with it, and repentance 
behind it ; he that has made it his friend, will have 
little to fear from his enemies, but he that has made 
it his enemy, will have little to hope from his 
friends. 



We are not more ingenious in searching out bad 
motives for good actions when performed by 
others, than good motives for bad actions when per- 
formed by ourselves.* I have observed elsewhere, 

* In the first volume, I observed, that with respect to the 
style I proposed to adopt in these pages, I should attempt 
to make Ji vary with the subject. I now find that I have 
succeeded so far at least in this attempt, that some have 
doubted whether all the articles came from the same pen. 
I can, however, assure my readers, that whatever faults 
Xjacon may possess belong to me alone, and having said 
thus much, I believe I shall not have made a very good 
bargain, by claiming also whatever trifling merits may be 
found in the book. ^To those, therefore, that are disgusted 
with the abundance of the one, or dissatisfied from the 
sagacity of the other, I can only reply ir the words of 
Euryalus : — 

' Adsum qui feci, in me convertite ferrum.' \ 

As to the frequent recurrence of antithesis, I admit that 
wherever this figure presents itself to my imagination, 1 

11 who made it am present, towards me direct the sward.— Pea. 



LACON. 293 

that no swindler has assumed so many names as 
self-love, nor is so much ashamed of his own ; 
self-love can gild the most nauseous pill, and can 



never reject it, if the deductions proposed to be drawn from 
it appear to me to be just. I have consulted authors ancient 
and modern on this subject, and they seem to be all agreed 
that the sententious, short, and apothegmatic style, so highly 
requisite in a book of maxims or aphorisms, is a style, to 
the force and spirit of which, antithesis is not only particu- 
larly advantageous, but even absolutely necessary. A 
maxim, if it be worth any thing, is worth remembering, and 
nothing is so likely to rivet it on the memory, as antithesis: 
deprived of this powerful auxiliary, all works of the na- 
ture of thai in which I am engaged, must droop and be dull. 
If, indeed, I have blundered on some antitheses that lead 
t<< false conclusions, I admit that no mercy ought to be 
shown to these, and I consign them, without benefit of clergy, 
to the severest sentence of criticism. No candid reader, 1 
presume, will accuse an author of adopting the antitheti- 
cal style from laziness, and those who would ask whether 
it be an easy style of writing, I would say with the celebra- 
ted painter," ' Try.' That I can abandon antithesis, on sub- 
jects where it is not required, will, I think, be allowed, by 
those who have read the notes to Hypocrisy,- and my re- 
marks on Don Juan. But to extirpate antithesis from lit- 
erature altogether, would be to destroy at one stroke about 
eight tenths of all the wit, ancient and modern, now exist- 
ing in the world ; and I fancy we shall never have the same 
excuse for such a measure, that the Dutch had for destroy- 
ing their spices — the fear of a glut. Donees, indeed, give 
antithesis no quarter, and, to say the truth, it gives them 
none ; if, indeed, it be a fault, it is "one of the very few which 
such persons may exclaim against with some justice, be- 
cause they were never yet found capable of committing it. 
Let any man try to recall to his memory all the pointed, 
epigrammatic, brief, or severe things which he may have 
read or heard, either at the senate, the bar, or the stage, 
and he will see that I have not overrated the share which 
antithesis will be found to have had in their production. 
It is a figure capable not only of the greatest wit, but some- 
times of the greatest beauty or sublimity. Milton, in his 
moral description of hell, savs that it was a place which 



-3§4 LAC ON. 

make the grossest veanaluy,when tinselled over whh 
the semblance of gratitude, sit easy on the weakest 
stomach. There is an anecdote of Sir Robert 
Walpole so much to my present purpose, that I 
cannot refrain from relating it, as I conceive that 
it will be considered apposite by all my readers, ai>d 
may perhaps be new to some. Sir Robert wished 
' to carry a favourite measure in the house of com- 
mons. None understood better than this minister, 
two grand secrets of state — the great power of 
principal, and the great weakness of principle. A 
day or two previous to the agitation of the measure 
alluded to, he chanced upon a country member, who 
sometimes looked to the weight and value of an 
argument, rather than to its justice or its truth. 
Sir Robert took him aside, and rather unceremo- 

God c created evil, for evil only good j where all life dies, 
death lives.' That it is capable of the greatest beauty, will 
be seen by the following translation from an Arabic poet, 
on the birth of a child : — 

1 When born, in tears we saw thee drown'd, 
While thine assembled friends around 
\ With smiles their joy con£2st. 

So live, that at thy parting hour, 
They may the flood oi'sorr&w pour, 
And thou in smiles be drest. 5 

If these lines will not put my readers in good humonr 
with antithesis, I must either give them up as incorrigible, 
or prescribe to them a regular course of reading discipline, 
administered by such writers as Herder or Gisborne, re- 
stricting them, also, most straitly, from all such authors 
as Butler and Swift, where they will be often shocked with 
such lines as the following : — 

1 Tis said that Caesar's horse would stoop, 
To take his noble rider up ; i 

So Huqlibras's, 'tis well known, 
Would often do to set him down. 1 



LACQN. 2vl 

rnously put a thousand pound bank note into liia 
hand, saying, 1 1 must have your vote and influence 
on such a day.' Our Aristides from the- country 
thus replied : ' Sir Robert, you have shown yourself 
my friend on many occasions^ and on points where 
both my honour and my interest were nearly and 
dearly concerned ; I am also informed that it was 
owing to your good offices, that my wife lately met 
with so distinguished and flattering a reception at 
court. I should think myself, therefore,' continued 
he, putting, however, the note very carefully into his 
own pocket ; ' 1 should think myself, Sir Robert, a 
perfect monster of ingratitudej it\ on this occasion, 
I refused you my vote and influence.' They parted ; 
Sir Robert not a little surprised at having discov- 
ered a new page in the volume of man, and the 
other scarcely more pleased with the valuable rea- 
soning of Sir Robert, than with his own specious 
rhetoric, which had so suddenly metamorphosed 
an act of the foulest corruption, into one of the sin- 
cerest gratitude. 



As that gallant can best affect a pretended pas- 
sion for one woman, who has no true love for an- 
other, so he that has no real esteem for any of the 
virtues, can best assume the appearance of them all # 



True friendship is like sound health, the value 
of it is seldom known until it be lost. 



We are all greater dupes to our own weakness 
than to the skill of others ; and the successes 
gained over us by the designing, are usually nothing 
more than the prey taken from those very snares 



2W JfeACOI». 

we have laid ourselves. One man falls by his am* 
bition, another by his perfidy, a third by his ava* 
rice, and a fourth by his lust. What are these but 
so many nets, watched indeed by the fowler, but 
woven by the victim ? 



Corruption is like a ball of snow, when once set 
a rolling, it must increase. It gives- momentum to 
the activity of the knave, but it chills the honest 
man, and makes him almost weary of his calling ' 
and all that corruption attracts, it also retains ; for 
it is easier not to fall, than only to fall once, and 
not to yield a single inch, than having yielded, ta 
regain it. 



Works of true merit are seMom very popular in 
their own day ; for knowledge is on the march, and 
men of genius are the prastolatores or videtteSf 
that are far in advance of their comrades. They 
are not with them, but before them ; not in the 
camp, but beyond it. The works of Sciolists and 
Dullards are still more unpopular, but from a differ- 
ent cause ; and theirs is an unpopularity that will* 
remain, because they are not before the main body, 
but behind it ; and as it proceeds, every moment 
increases the distance of those sluggards that are 
sleeping in the rear, but diminishes the distance of 
those heroes that have taken post in the van. Who 
then stands the best chance of that paltry prize, 
contemporaneous approbation ? He whose medi 
ocrity of progress distances not his comrades, and 
whose equality of merit affords a level on which 
friendship may be built ; who is not so dull but that 
he has something to teach, and not so wise as to 
have nothing to learn ; who is not so far before his 






L A C If. 297 

companions as to be nnperccived, nor so far behind 
.them as to be unregarded. 

A*fcown, before it can be plundered and deserted, 
must first be taken ; and in this particular, Venus 
has borrowed a law from her consort Mars. A wo- 
man that wishes to retain her suitor, must keep him 
in the trenches ; for this is a siege which the be- 
i sieger never raises for want of supplies, since a 
feast is more fatal to love than a fast, and a surfeit 
than a starvation. Inanition may cause it to die a 
.slow death, but repletion always destroys it by a 
sudden one. We should have as many Petrarchs 
as Antonys, were not Lauras much more scarce 
than Cleopatras. 



Those orators who give us much noise and 
many words, but little argument and less wit, and 
who are most loud when they are the least lucid, 
should take a lesson from the great volume of Na- 
ture ; she often gives us the lightning even without 
the thunder, but never the thunder without the 
lightning. 



Let us so employ our youth, that the very old 
age which will deprive us of attention from the 
eyes of the women, shall enable us to replace what 
we have lost with something better from the ears 
of the men. 



The reason why great men meet with so little 
pity or attachment in adversity, would seem to be 
this : the friends of a great man were made by 
-his fortunes, his enemies by himself, and revenge is 
& much more punctual paymaster than gratitude. 



£38. LA€Oif. 

Those, whom a great man has marred; rejoice at 
his ruin, and those whom he has made, look on 
with indifference ; because, with common minds, 
the destruction of the creditor is considered as 
equivalent to the payment of the debt. 



Our aclii evements and our productions are our 
intellectual progeny, and he who is engaged in pro- 
viding that th&se immortal children of his mind 
shall Inherit fame, is far more nobly occupied than 
he who is industrious in order that the perishable 
children of his body should inherit wealth. This 
reflection will help us to a solution of that question 
which has been so often and so triumphantly pro- 
posed: * What has posterity ever done for us?' 
Tliis sophism may be replied to thus : Who is it 
that proposes the question ? one of the present 
generation of that particular moment when it is 
proposed: but to such it is evident that posterity 
can exist only in. idea. And if it be asked, what 
the idea of posterity has done for us 1 we may 
safely reply that it has done, and is doing two most 
important things ; it increases the energy of virtue 
and diminishes the excesses of vice ; it makes the 
best of us more good, and the worst of us less bad". 

No improvement that takes place in either of the 
sexes, can possibly be confined to itself; each is 
a universal mirror to each; and the respective 
refinement of the one, will always be in reciprocal 
proportion to the polish of the other. 

Those who at the commencement of their career 
meet with Less contemporaneous applause than they 



LAC ON. 299 

deserve, are not unfrequently recompensed by 
gaining more than they deserve at the end of it ; 
and although at the earlier part of their progress, 
such persons had grounds to fear that they were 
born to be starved, yet have they often lived long 
enough to die of a surfeit. This applies not to 
posterity, which decides without any regard to this 
inequality. Contemporaries are anxious to redeem 
a defect of penetration, by a subsequent excess of 
praise ; but from the very nature of things, it is im- 
possible for posterity to commit either the one fault 
or the other. Doctor Johnson is a remarkable 
instance of the truth of what has been advanced ; 
he was considered less than he really was, in his 
morn of life, and greater than he really was, in its 
meridian. Posterity has calmly placed him where he 
ought to be — between the two extremes. He was 
fortunate in having not only the most interesting, but 
also the most disinterested of biographers, for he is 
constantly raising his hero at the expense of himself. 
He now and then proposes some very silly ques- 
tions to his oracle. He once asked him, 4 Pray, 
doctor, do you think you could make any part of 
the Rambler better than it is V ' Yes, sir,' said the 
doctor ; ' I could make the best parts, better.' But 
posterity, were she to cite the doctor before her, 
might perhaps propose a more perplexing question, 
■ — ' Pray, Doctor, do you think you could make the 
worst parts, worse V 



The testimony of those who doubt the least, is 
not unusually that very testimony that, ought most 
to be doubted. 



300 L A C O N , 

It is curious that intellectual darkness create* 
some authors whom physical darkness would de- 
stroy ; such would be totally silent if they were 
absolutely blind, and their ability to write would 
instantly cease with their ability to read. They 
could neither draw, like Shakspeare, on imagina- 
tion ; like Bacon, on reflection ; like Ben Jon- 
son, on memory ; nor like Milton, on all. These 
traffickers in literature, are like bankers in one re- 
spect, and like bakers in another. Like bankers, 
because they carry on business with a small capi- 
tal of their own, and a very large one of other 
men's, and a run would be equally fatal to both. 
They are like bakers, because while the one manu- 
factures his bread, and the other his book, neither 
of them has had any hand in the production of 
that which forms the staple of his respective com- 
modity. 



With the offspring of genius, the law of parturi- 
tion is reversed ; the throes are in the conception, 
the pleasure in the birth. 



As no roads are so rough as those that have just 
been mended, so no sinners are so intolerant as 
those that have just turned saints. 



When dunces call us fools, without proving us 
to be so, our best retort is to prove them to be fools, 
without condescending to call them so. 



Pedantry crams our heads with learned lumber, 
and takes out our brains to make room for it 



Lago n. soi 

He that pleases himself, without injuring his 
neighbour, is quite as likely to please half the 
world, as he who vainly strives to please the whole 
of it ; he also stands a far better chance of a ma- 

{'ority in his favour, since upon all equal divisions, 
te will be fairlv entitled to his own casting vote. 



I have often heard it canvassed, how far it would 
be beneficial that written speeches should be per- 
mitted to be read in our Houses of Parliament. 
Madame De Stael, who, in the infancy of the 
French revolution, saw the consequences of writ- 
ten speeches developed before her eyes, has, with 
her usual discernment, set the question at rest, by 
deciding in favour of the system which excludes 
them. In the British Senate, she observes, it is a 
rule not to read a written speech, it must be spoken, 
so that the number of persons capable of addres- 
sing the House with effect, is of necessity very 
small. ' But,' she adds, ' as soon as permission is 
given to read either what we have written for our- 
selves, or what others have written for us, men of 
eminence are no longer the permanent leaders of 
an assembly, and thus we lose the great advan- 
tages of a free government, that of giving talent its 
place, and consequently, of prompting all men to 
the improvement of their faculties.' 



Women will pardon any offence rather than a 
neglect of their charms, and rejected love re-enters 
the female bosom with a hatred more implacable 
than that of Coriolanus when he returned to Rome , 
In good truth, we should have many Potiphars, 
were it not that Josephs are scarce. All Addison's 
26 



302 LACON, 

address and integrity were found necessary to 
extricate him from a dilemma of this kind. The 
Marquis Des Vardes fared not so well. Madame 
the Dutchess of Orleans fell in love with him, 
although she knew he was the gallant of Madame 
Soissons, her most intimate friend. She even 
made a confidant of Madame Soissons,, who not 
only agreed to give him up, but carried her extrav- 
agance so far as to send for the marquis, and 
release him, in the presence of Madame, from all 
his obligations, and to make him formally over to 
her. The Marquis Des Vardes deeming this to 
be only an artifice of gallantry to try how faithful 
he was in his amours, thought it most prudent to 
declare himself incapable of change, in terms full 
of respect for Madame, but of passion for the 
dutchess. His ruin was determined upon from 
that moment, nor could his fidelity to the one, save 
him from the effects of that hatred his indifference 
had excited in the breast of the other. As a poli- 
ciser, the marquis reasoned badly ; for had he 
been right in his conclusion, it would have been no 
difficult matter for him, on the ladies discovering 
their plot, to have persuaded his first favourite that 
his heart was not in the thing, and that he had 
fallen into the snare only from a deference to her 
commands ; and if he were wrong in his conclu- 
sion, which was the case, women do not like a man 
the worse for having many favourites, if he deserts 
them all for her ; she fancies that she herself has 
the power of fixing the wanderer ; that other women 
conquer like the Parthians, but that she herself, 
like the Romans, cannot only make conquests, but 
retain them * 
* It follows upon the same principle, that the converse 



LAC ON/ SOS 

In? civil jurisprudence* it too often happens that 
there is so much law, there is no room for justice, 
and that the claimant expires of wrong, in the 
midst of right, as mariners die of thirst, in the 
midst of water. 



Too high an appreciation of our own talents is 
the chief cause why experience preaches to us all 
in vain. Hence it happens, that both in public and 
in private life, we so constantly see men playing 
that very game at which they know that others 

of what has been offered above will also be true, and that 
women will pardon almost any extravagances in ineny 
if they appear to have been the uncontrollable effects of an 
inordinate love and admiration. It is well known from the 
confession of Catherine herself, that Alexis Orloff, though 
at that time a common soldier in the guards, had the hardi- 
esse to make the first advances to the Autocratrix of all the 
Russias. 

* Grievances of this kind are not likely to be speedily 
redressed, on many accounts, some of which £ have else- 
where enumerated. This is an esprit dtt corps amongst 
lawyers, which is carried to a greater height than in any 
other profession ; its force here is more prominent, because 
it is more effectual. Lawyers are the only civil delinquents 
whose judges must of necessity be chosen from themselves. 
Therefore, the ^Quis custodict ipsos custodes?'* is a more 
perplexing question with regard to them r than any other 
body of men. The fact is, that the whole civil code is 
now become a most unwieldy machine, without the least 
chance of being improved, for to those who manage its 
movements, its value rises in precise proportion to its com- 
plication, and to them it is most profitable when it performs 
the least. This machine devours an immensity of paper 
in the shape of bank notes, and returns to its customers 
other paper in the shape of legal instruments and docu- 
ments, from which on examination nothing can be learnt, 
except that the parties have been regularly ruined accord- 
ing to law. 

• Who shall guard the guards themselves 1 



30i L A C O X . 

have been ruined ; but they flatter themselves that 
they shall play it with more skill. The powerful 
are more deaf to the voice of experience, than their 
inferiors, from the very circumstances in which 
they are placed. Power multiplies flatterers, and 
flatterers multiply our delusions, by hiding us from 
ourselves. It is on this principle only, that we can 
account for such a reign as that of the Second 
Charles, treading so quickly upon that of the First. 
The former was restored to a throne that might be 
said to have been built out of the very materials 
that composed the scaffold of his father ! He con- 
verted it into an altar of bacchanalians, where he 
himself officiated as highpriest of the orgies, 
while every principle of purity and of honour were 
the costly victims, that bedewed with libations and 
bedizened with flowers, were led in disgusting 
splendour to the sacrifice. 



He that would thoroughly accomplish himself 
for the government of human affairs, should have a 
wisdom that can look forward into things that are 
present, and a learning that can look back into 
things that are past.* But the poring pedant, who 
will slake his thirst only from antiquity, will find 
that it abounds with wells so deep, that some of 
them were not worth the digging, and now so dark 

* Some contend that the moderns have less strength than 
the ancients, but it would be nearer the truth, to insist that 
the moderns have less weakness ; the muscularity of their 
minds on some points is not enfeebled by any rickety con- 
formation on others, and this enables us to ascend the lad- 
der of science, high enough to be on a level with the wis- 
dom of our forefathers at some times, and above their errors 
at aU times. 



LACON. 305 

fTiat they are not worth the descending , yet so dry 
withal, that he will come up more thirsty than he 
went down, with eyes blinded by the dust of time, 
and with lips unquenched by the living waters of 
truth. Wisdom, however, and learning, should go 
hand in hand, they are so beautifully qualified for 
mutual assistance. But it is better to have wis- 
dom without learning, than learning without wis- 
dom ; just as it is better to be rich without being 
the possessor of a mine, than to be the possessor 
of a mine without being rich. 

When we have lost a favourite horse or a dog, 
we usually endeavour to console ourselves, by the 
recollection of some bad qualities they happened to 
possess ; and we are very apt to tranquillize our 
minds by similar reminiscences, on the death of 
those friends who have left us nothing. 



When certain persons abuse us, let us ask 
Ottrselves what description of characters it is that 
they admire ; we shall often find this a very con- 
solatory question. 

Why is it that we so constantly hear men 
complaining of their memory,* but not of their 
judgment? is it that they are less ashamed of a 
short memory, because they have heard that this 

* Of all the faculties of the mind, memory is the first that 
flourishes, and the first that dies, duintilian has said . 
1 Quantum memories tantum ingenii;'! but if this maxim 
were either true, or believed to be so, all men would be as 
satisfied with their memory, as they at present are with 
their judgment. 

* As much of memory, so much of mind, 

26* „. , 



306 LACON. 

is a failing of great wits ; or is it because nothing 
is more common than a fool with a strong memory, 
nor more rare than a man of sense with a weak 
judgment ? 



As the mean have a calculating avarice, thai 
sometimes inclines them to give, so the magnani 
mous have a condescending generosity, that some 
times inclines them to receive. 



Philosophy is to poetry, what old age is to 
youth ; and the stern truths of philosophy are as 
fatal to the fictions of the one, as the chilling testi- 
monies of experience are to the hopes of the other. 



No reformation is so hazardous as that of 
retrenchment ; it forces the corrupt to give a prac- 
tical assent to a system which they outwardly extol, 
but inwardly execrate. Even the bright talent, and 
still brighter integrity, of M. Neckar,* were not 
equal to the host of enemies which his inflexible 
adherence to economy has created around him. 
' I was placed/ says he, ' in a situation, where 1 was 
under the constant necessity of disobliging all those 
whom I knew, in order to secure the interests of 
those whom I knew not.' ' Even the ladies at court 
would demand pensions,' says Madame De Stael, 
1 with as much confidence as a marshal of France 

* So firm was the confidence reposed in this great man 
by the whole nation of France, that on his reassumption 
of office, the French funds ~ose thirty per cent, in one day. 
Had M. Neckar had plenitude of power, or M. Mirabeau 
purity of principle, could the former have done what he 
wouid, or the latter what he could, in either case the French 
revolution had been prevented. 



LAC OX. 307 

would complain of -being, superseded. 'What.' 
they would say, i is three thousand livres to the 
king V ' Three thousand livres,' replied M. Neckar, 
* are the taxation of a village.' 



Self-love, in a well regulated breast, is as the 
steward of the household^ superintending the ex- 
penditure, and seeing that benevolence herself 
should be prudential, in order to be permanent, by 
providing that the reservoir which feeds, should 
also be fed. 



Some authors write nonsense in a clear style, 
and others sense in an obscure one ; some can 
reason without being able to persuade, others can 
persuade without being able to reason ; some dive 
so deep that they descend into darkness, and others 
soar so high that they give us no light ; and some, 
in a vain attempt to be cutting and dry, give us 
only that which is cut and dried. We should 
labour, therefore, to treat with ease of things that 
are difficult ; with familiarity of things that are 
novel ; and with perspicuity, of things that are 
profound. 

What we conceive to be failings in others, are 
not unfrequently owing to some deficiencies in 
ourselves ; thus, plain men think handsome women 
want passion, and plain women think young men 
want politeness ; dull writers think all readers 
devoid of taste, and dull readers think witty writers 
devoid of brilliancy old men can see nothing to 
admire in the present days ; and yet former days 
were not better, but it is they themselves that have 
become worse. 



901; """ LACOH, 

A thorough-paced antiquary not only remember^ 
-what all other people have thought proper to forget, 
but he also forgets what all other people think it 
proper to remember. 



1 Speaking,' says Lord Bacon, * makes a ready 
man, reading a full man, and writing a correct man.' 
The first position, perhaps, is true ; for those are 
often the most ready to speak, who have the least 
to say. Reading will not always make a full man, 
for the memories of some men are like the buckets 
of the daughters of Danae, and retain nothing ; 
others have recollections like the bolters of a mill, 
that retain the chaff and let the flour escape ; these 
men will have fulness, but it will be with the draw- 
back of dulness. Neither will writing always 
accomplish what his lordship has declared, other* 
wise some of our most voluminous writers would 
put in their claim for correctness, to whom theh 
readers would more justly award correction. But 
if we may be allowed to compare intellectual 
wealth to current, w r e may say, that from a man's 
speaking, we may guess how much ready money 
he has ; from his reading, what legacies have been 
left him ; and from his writing, how much he can 
sit down and draw for, on his banker. 



Drunkenness is the vice of a good constitu- 
tion, or of a bad memory ; of a constitution so 
treacherously good, that it never bends until it 
breaks ; or of a memory that recollects the pleas 
ures of getting drunk, but forgets .He oains of get 
ting s<ober. 



iACO«. 209 

True goodness is not without that germ of 
^greatness that can bear with patience the mistakes 
:of the ignorant, and the censures of the malignant. 
The approbation of God is her * exceeding great 
reward, 1 and she would not debase a thing so 
precious, by an association with the contaminating 
plaudits of man. 

Women that are the least bashful, are not 
^infrequently the most modest : and we are never 
more deceived than when we would infer any 
laxity of principle, from that freedom of demeanour, 
which often arises from a total ignorance of vice. 
Prudery, on the contrary, is often assumed rather 
to keep off the suspicion of criminality, than crimi- 
nality itself, and is resorted to, to defend the fair 
wearer, not from the whispers of our sex, but of 
her own ; it is a cumbersome panoply, and, like 
heavy armour, is seldom worn, except by those 
who attire themselves for the combat, or who have 
.received a wound. 



What Fontenelle said of cuckoldom, might more 
truly be said of fame ; it is nothing if you do not 
know it, and very little if you do. Nor does the 
similarity end here ; for in both cases, the princi- 
pals, though first concerned, are usually the very 
parties that are last informed. 



An ambassador* from Naples, once said of tho 
young ladies of Paris, that they loved with their 

* This same ambassador was no disgrace to his corps, and 
some of his fraternity would not be the worse for a spice of 
.his penetration. Onbeing asked by a lady, how it happen ed 
that the women have so much political influence in France, 



heads, and thought with their hearts ; and could 
the same ambassador now see a certain class of 
young gentlemen in London,, we might as truly say 
of them, that they did neither, with either 



Good faith is the richest exchequer of princes, 
for the more it is drawn upon the firmer it is, and 
its resources increase with its payments. A false- 
hood from royal lips, is to a nation, what the 
mistake of a signal is to an army : the word of a 
king is as a Pharos to the mariner ; to withhold 
his word is to withhold the light, but to- give his 
word and not to fulfil it, is not only to withhold the 
true light, but to set up a false one. 

We pity those that have lost their eyes, because 
they admit their infirmity, are thankful for our 
assistance, and do not deny us that light which 
they themselves have lost. It is far otherwise 
with the blindness of the mind, which, although it 
be a calamity far more deplorable, seldom obtains* 
that full commiseration it deserves. The reason^ 
is, that the mentally blind too often claim to be 
sharpsighted, and in< one respect are so, since they 
can perceive that in themselves which no one else 
can discover. Hence, it happens that they are 
not only indignant at the proffered assistance of 
the enlightened,, but most officiously obtrude their 
guidance upon them. Inflexibility, alas, is not 
confined to truth, nor inconstancy to error, and 

but so little in England, he replied : * The reason is, that 
men govern in France, but in England the laws ; the wo* 
men can influence the men, but they can have nothing to do* 
with the laws, but to obey them'.' 



LACON. 311 

those who have the least pretensions to dogmatize, 
are not always those who have the least inclination 
to do so. It is upon such lamentable occasions 
as these, that the scriptural paradox has been 
carried to a still greater excess of absurdity, when 
the presumption of those that are blind, would in- 
sist upon leading those that can sec. 

Every man, if he would be candid, and sum 
up his own case as impartially as he would that 
of his neighbour, would probably come to this 
conclusion, that he knows enough of others to be 
certain that he himself has enemies, and enough 
of himself to be as certain that he deserves them. 
We are dissatisfied, not so much with the quantum 
of the requital, as with the quarter from whence it 
comes, and are too apt to fancy that our punish- 
ment is not deserved, because it is not always in- 
flicted precisely by the proper hand. Inasmuch 
as the bitter seeds of offence are sometimes sown 
without producing revenge, their proper harvest, so 
we also are not to wonder, if at other times the 
harvest should spring up, even where no seed has 
been sown. 



Gross and vulgar minds will always pay a 
higher respect to wealth than to talent ; for wealth, 
although it be a far less efficient source of power 
than talent, happens to be far more intelligible. 



Marriage is a feast where the grace is some- 
times better than the dinner. 

The freest possible scope should be given to all 
the opinions, discussions, and investigations of tho 



312 LA CON, 

learned ; if frail they will fall, if right they wiM 
remain ; like steam, they are dangerous only when 
pent in, restricted, and confined. These discordan- 
ces in the moral world, like the apparent war of 
the elements in the natural, are the very means by 
which wisdom and truth are ultimately established 
in the one, and peace and harmony in the other. 



Great examples to virtue, or to vice, are not so 
productive of imitation as might at first sight be 
supposed. The fact is, there are hundreds that 
want energy, for one that wants ambition, and sloth 
has prevented as many vices in some minds, as vir- 
tues in others. Idleness is the grand Pacific ocean 
of life, and in that stagnant abyss, the most salutary 
things produce no good, the most noxious, no evil. 
Vice, indeed, abstractedly considered, may be, and 
often is, engendered in idleness, but the moment it 
becomes efficiently vice, it must quit its cradle and 
cease to be idle. 



Whether we are fiddlers or philosophers, we are 
equally puffed up by our acquirements, and equally 
vain of our art. The fiddler is more ingenuous 
than the philosopher, since he boldly places his 
own profession at the head of every other, and, in 
all the self-complacency of egotism, exclaims ■ one 
God, one Farrinelli.' Perhaps he is right, for in 
both pursuits the value of the prize often consists 
solely in the difficulty of attaining it. The philo- 
sopher, with as much arrogance as the fiddler, has 
a trifle more of circumspection. Proud of being 
thought incapable of pride, he labours less to exalt 
his particular pursuit, than to lower those of his 
neighbours, and from the flimsiness of their struc- 



teres, would slyly establish the solidity of his 
own. He would rather be the master of a hovel 
amidst ruins, than of a palace, if confronted by 
piles of equal grandeur and dimensions. Pride is 
a paradoxical Proteus, eternally diverse, yet ever 
the same ; for Plato adopted a most magnificent 
mode of displaying his contempt for magnificence, 
while neglect would have restored Diogenes to 
common sense and clean linen, since he would have 
had no tub, from the moment he had no spectators. 
1 Thus I trample,' said Diogenes, ' on the pride of 
Plato.' ' But,' rejoined Plato,. ' with greater pride? 
O Diogenes.'' 



So idle are dull readers, and so industrious are 
dull authors, that puffed nonsense bids fair to blow 
unpufled sense wholly out of the field. 



Contemporaries* appreciate the man rather than 
the merit; but posterity will regard the merit 
rather than the man. 

We shall at times chance upon men of profound 
and recondite acquirements, but whose qualifica- 
tions, from the incommunicative and inactive habits 
of their owners, are as utterly useless to others, as 
though the possessors had them not. A person 
of this class may be compared to a fine chronome- 
ter, which has no hands to its dial ; both are con- 
stantly right without correcting any that are wrong, 
and may be carried round the world without assist- 

* Blair complains of the dearth of good historians in his 
day; an era that could boast of Hume, Robertson, and 
Gibbon. 

27 



3U LAC ON. 

ing one individual, either in making a discovery 
or taking an observation. 



TvwQi creavrov, know thyself, is a precept which 
we are informed descended from heaven, a ccbIo des 
cendit, yvoBi ceavTov. The same authority has not 
been bold enough to affirm that it had yet reached 
the earth ; and from all that we can observe, we 
might be pardoned for suspecting that this celestial 
maxim was still on its journey. The mind, like the 
eye, sees all things rather than itself, and philoso- 
phers, like travellers, are often far better informed 
as to what is going on abroad than at home. I 
blame not those who run to scale the wall of China, 
or the pyramids of Egypt, the cataracts of the 
Missouri, or the apex of Chirnborazo; but if they 
would examine that which far surpasses, not only 
the artificial wonders of the old world, but the 
natural wonders of the new, they must return to 
themselves. 



As the mother tongue in which we converse, is 
the only language we all talk, though few are taught 
it, so the mother wit by which we act, is the only 
science we never learn : yet we are ail more or less 
obliged to practise it, although it is never heard of 
in the schools. The ancient philosophers indeed 
scrutinized man in all his various bearings and 
connexions, both as to his individual and social rela- 
tions, as to his present capabilities and future hopes. 
Although they have descanted so largely about him, 
yet about him, they have left us little that is satisfac- 
tory or conclusive, and one short sentence, uttered 
by a despised and persecuted man, in the streets 



L A C O If . 315 

of Jerusalem, perhaps, is worth it all. Truth is 
one, but error multifarious, since there may be a 
thousand opinions on any subject, but usually one 
that is right. That these sages of antiquity wan- 
dered very far from the mark, may be collected 
from their glaring contradictions, constantly of each 
other, and often of themselves. Like moles they 
were industrious, and like them they worked in the 
dark, fancied themselves very deep, when they 
were only a few inches beneath the surface,, threw 
up a great deal of rubbish, and caused^ men to 
stumble and trip. Nevertheless, they had so rrumer- 
ous an audience, that the common business of life 
mn a risk of being neglected for speculations upon 
it, and it was fortunate that some of these sages 
not only walked barefoot themselves, but* enceur* 
aged their followers to do the same ; for logic had 
become far more cheap at Athens than leather, and 
syllogisms than shoes. Even this state of things 
had its portion of good ; for he that knew not 
where to get a dinner, was in the highest state of 
practical discipline for a declamation on the advan* 
lages of temperance ; and he that had no house, 
over his head, might naturally be expected to sur- 
pass all others in his knowledge of the stars. 



Those who would draw conclusions unfavour- 
able to Christianity, from the circumstance that 
many believers have turned skeptics, but few skep- 
tics, believers, have forgotten the answer of Arce- 
silaus, to one that asked him why many went from 
other sects to the Epicureans, but none from the 
Epicureans to the other sects. ' Because/ said he. 
'■of men, some are made eunuchs, but of eunuchs 
sever any are made men. 5 In matters of religion, 



-316 L A C O 3tf . 

it too often happens that belief goes before exami- 
nation, and we take our creed from our nurse, but 
not our conviction. If the intellectual food should 
afterwards rise upon the stomach, it is because in 
this .unnatural order of things, the act of swallow- 
ing has preceded the ceremony of tasting. 

Few things are more destructive of the best in- 
terest of society, than the prevalent, but mistaken 
notion, that it requires a vast deal of talent to be a 
successful knave. This position, while it dimin- 
ishes that odium which ought t© attach to fraud, 
in>the part of those who sutler by it, increases also 
the temptation to commit it, on the part of those 
who profit by it ; since there are so many who would 
rather be written down knaves, than fools. The 
plain fact is, that to be honest with. success, requires 
far more talent than to be a rogue, and to be honest 
without success, requires far more magnanimity ; 
for trick is not dexterity, cunning is not skill, and 
mystery is not profoundness. The honest man 
proposes to arrive at a certain point, by -one straight 
and narrow road, that is beset on all sides with 
obstacles and with impediments. He would rather 
stand still than proceed by trespassing on the pro- 
perty of his neighbour, and would rather overcome 
a difficulty, than avoid it by breaking down a fence. 
The knave, it is true, proposes to himself the same 
object, but arrives at it by a very different route. 
Provided only that he gets on, he is not particular 
whether he effects it where there is a road, or 
where there is none ; he trespasses without scru- 
ple, either on the forbidden ground of private 
property, or on those by-paths where there is no 
legal thoroughfare ; what he cannot jcac.li ovef 



L A C O N . 317 

he will overreach, and those obstacles he cannot 
surmount by climbing, he will undermine by creep- 
ing, quite regardless of the filth that may stick to 
him in the scramble. The consequence is, that he 
frequently overtakes the honest man, and passes 
by him with a sneer. What then shall we say, 
that the rogue has more talent than the upright ? let 
us rather say that he has less. Wisdom is nothing 
more than judgment exercised on the true value of 
things that are desirable ; but of things in themselves 
desirable, those are the most so that remain the long- 
est. Let us therefore mark the end of these things, 
and we shall come to one conclusion, the flat of 
the tribunal both of God and of man — that honesty 
is not only the deepest policy, but the highest wisdom ; 
since however difficult it may be for integrity to get 
on, it is a thousand times more difficult for knavery 
to get off ; and no error is more fatal than that of 
those who think that virtue has no other reward, 
because they have heard that she is her own. 

In all civilized communities, there must of neces- 
sity exist a small portion of society, who are in a 
great measure independent of public opinion. 
How then is this seeming advantage balanced 
in the great account ? These privileged individ- 
uals, surrounded by parasites, sycophants, and 
deceivers, too often become the willing victims of 
self-delusion, flattery, or design. Such persons 
commence by being their own masters, and finish 
by being their own slaves, the automata of passion, 
the Heliogaboli of excess, and the martyrs of dis- 
ease. Undelighted amidst all delight, and joyless 
amidst all enjoyment, yet sateless in the very lap 
of satiety, they eventually receive the full measure 
27* 



318 LAC ON. 

of the punishment of their folly, their profligacy, 
or their vice; nay, they often suffer ?no?e than 
other men, not because they are as amenable as 
thek inferiors, but because they go greater lengths. 
Experience speaks to such in vain, and they sink 
deeper in the abyss, in precise proportion to the 
height from which they have plunged. 

It has been said, that we are much deceived, 
when we fancy that l we can do without the world? 
and still more so when we presume that the world 
cannot do without us. Against the truth of the 
latter part of the proposition, I have nothing to 
depose ; but to return to the first feature of the pro- 
position, quoted above, I am inclined to think that 
we are independent, very much in proportion to the 
preference we give to intellectual and mental pleas- 
ures and enjoyments, over those that are sen- 
sual and corporeal. It is unfortunate, that although 
affluence cannot give this kind of independence, 
yet that poverty should have a tendency to with- 
hold it, not indeed altogether, but in part. For it 
is not a more unusual sight to see a poor man who 
thinks, acts, and speaks for himself, than to see a 
rich man, who perforins all these important func- 
tions at the will of another ; and the only polite 
phrase I know of, which often means more than it 
says, is that which has been adopted as the conclu- 
sion of our epistles ; where for the word servant, 
might not unfrequently be substituted that of slave. 

It is astonishing how parturescent is evil, and 
with what incestuous fertility the whole family of 
vice increase and multiply, by cohabiting amongst 
themselves. Thus, if kings are tyrannical and 



17A COX. 310 

•oppressive, it is too often because subjects are ser- 
vile and corrupt ; in proportion to the cowardice 
of the ruled, is the cruelty of the ruler, and if he 
governs by threats and by bribes, rather than by 
justice and by mercy, it is because fear has a 
stronger influence over the base than love, and 
gain, more weight with the mercenary, than grati- 
tude. Thus, the gladiatorial shows of ancient 
Rome, brought upon the instituters of them, their 
own punishment; for cruelty begat cruelty. The 
tyrant exercised those barbarities on the people, 
which the people exercised upon the prisoner and 
the slave ; the physical value of man fell with his 
moral, and a contempt for the lives of others was 
bred in all, by a familiarity with blood. 



As we cannot judge of the motion of the earth, 
by any thing within the earth, but by some radiant 
and celestial point that is beyond it, so the wicked, 
by comparing themselves with the wicked, per- 
ceive not how far they are advanced in their ini- 
quity ; to know precisely what lengths they have 
gone, they must fix their attention on some bright 
and exalted character that is not of them, but 
above them. ' When all move equally,' says Pas- 
chal, 'nothing seems to move, as in a vessel under 
sail ; and when all run by common consent into 
vice, none appear to do so. He that stops first, 
views as from a fixed point, the horrible extrava- 
gance that transports the rest. 



There are two questions, one of which is the 
most important, and the other the most interesting 
that can possibly be proposed in language : Are 
we to live after death? and if we are — in what 



3* LACGN. 

suite It These are questions confined to no climate, 
creed, or community ; the savage is as deeply in- 
terested in them as the sage, and they are of equai 
import under every meridian where there are* 
men. I shall oiler some considerations that have 
been decisive with mc, on a subject that migh\ 
well warrant a much larger demand than I shaK 
make on the patience of my readers. Those wIig 
agree with me in drawing their hopes of immortal 
ity from the purest and the highest source, will nol 
be offended at an attempt to show, that on this most 
momentous question, the voice of reason re-echoes 
back the truths of revelation, and that the calmest 
assent of philosophy coincides with the firmest con- 
viction of faith. Many causes are now conspiring 
to increase the trunk of infidelity, but materialism 
is the main root of them all. Are we to live after 
death 1 and if we are, in what state ? The second 
question evidently depends upon the first, for he 
that feels no conviction as to the certainty of a 
future life, will not be over-solicitous as to the 
condition of it ; for to common minds the greatest 
things are diminished by distance, and they become 
evanescent, if to that distance be added doubt. 
Should the doubt of futurity introduce the denial 
of it, what must then be the result ? All that endears 
us to our fellow men, and all that exalts us above 
them, will be swallowed up and lost, in the paltri- 
ness of the present, and the nothingness of now. 
The interests of society demand that a belief in a 
future state should be general ; the probability of 
such a state is confirmed by reason, and its cer- 
tainty is affirmed by revelation. I shall confine 
myself altogether to such proofs as philosophy and 
reason afford, and in so doing, I shall attack neither 



LACOX. 821 

: motives .nor men. If an argument can be proved 
to be false in its premises, absurd in its conclu- 
sions, and calamitous in its consequences, it must 
fall ; we cannot desire it, because it has nothing to 
allure, and we cannot believe it, because it has 
nothing to convince. 

The analogical* method of proof lias very lately 
been resuscitated for the purpose of destroying the 
immortality of the soul. A bold and fresh attempt 
has been made to convert analogy into the Aor?>j 
a™ ,of materialism, by the help of which, as by a 
lever, the Archimedes of skepticism may be ena- 

* Analogy is a powerful weapon, and like all Instruments 
of that kind, is extremely dangerous in unskilful hands. 
The grounds of probability which this mode of reasoning 
affords, will be more or less firm in proportion to the length, 
the frequency, and the constancy, of the recurrence of the 
phenomena, on which the analogy itself is built. In some 
cases analogical proof may rise almost to mathematical 
certainty, as, when. from the undeviating experience of the 
past, we anticipate the future, and affirm that the sun will 
rise to-morrow. On other occasions, where the phenomena 
have occurred at long and broken intervals, and with nr 
regard to dates or periods, the analogical presumption o r 
their recurrence will mount no higher than the lowest stag**- 
of probability, and will in noway affect the common con 
cerns and business of life. It is' on this principle that tbr 
inhabitants of Lisbon sleep securely in their beds, withoir 
any v r ery disturbing perplexities on the probabilities of an 
earthquake. Where the phenomena occur with regularity, 
as in eclipses, mere distance of time does by no means in • 
validate Hie analogical proof, save and except that in con- 
sequence of the shortness of life, the verification of such 
phenomena, must be matter of testimony, rather than of 
experience. So powerful, however, is' analogy, that in 
most dispiu.es it has been courted as an ally by both parties ; 
it has even lent arguments, as Switzerland troops, to botri 
'ides, and its artillery has at times by both been over- 
tharged 1 until it has reacted upon themselves. 



328 LACQrw 

bled to overturn, not earth indeed, but heaven X 
Analogy has in fact supplied the first stone of tha 
foundation, and that alone;, but infidelity has 
reared the superstructure, with an industry as fer- 
tile of resource, and we might, add, of invention, as 
that of the children of Israel, who continued to 
deliver in the tale of bricks, : after the materials 
were denied. As niuek talent has- been, displayed; 
in the support of these opinions which I am con* 
tributing my efforts to controvert, and as some of the 
positions on which the inferences are built, will be 
conceded, I think it right to commence, by observ- 
ing, that falsehood is never so successful as when 
she baits her hook with truth, and that no opinions 
so fatally mislead us, as those that are not wholly 
wrong, as no watches so effectually deceive the 
wearer, as those that are sometimes right. 

The argument I contend against is this : ' The 
mind] (we are told) * is infantile with the body, 
manly in the adult, sick and debilitated by diseasa,, 
enfeebled in the decline of life, doting in decrepitude, 
and ajmiliilaied by death. Now it so happens, that 
out of all the positions which make the links of 
this formidable analogical chain, the first alone i3 
universally true, and disturbed by no exceptions ; 
the intermediate lir*ks are sometimes right, and' 
sometimes, wrong, and the last is mere assertion, 
wholly unsupported by proof. The universal his- 
tory of man, our own experience, and the testimony 
of others, are full of instances that clearly prove 
that the assertions which intervene between tli3 
first and the last, are as often false as they are true. 
And this is more than we want; for I must beg my 
readers' attention to- this particular circumstance,, 
namely > that one? exception., to each of the assertion* 



advanced above, must necessarily be as fatal to the 
annihilating clause which is inferred from them, as 
one million. For if there be any force in that 
mode of argument which has been termed the 
reductio ad absurdum, it is evident that a single 
exception to each, of the intermediate assertions, 
between the first position and the last, forces the 
materialist upon the monstrous necessity of admit- 
ting two discrete orders of men, and that there is 
one law^oi* existence for one description, and a 
second for another. If we pursue the analogy no 
farther than history, experience, and observation 
warrant, and this is the only logical mode of pur- 
suing it, we are then forced upon the absurdity 
mentioned above. The only analogical chain which 
the facts authorize us to form, is as follows : the 
mind is infantile with the body, it is sometime? 
manly in the adult, sometimes sick and debilitated 
by disease, sometimes enfeebled in the decline of 
life, sometimes doting in decrepitude, and sometimes 
annihilated by death ! ! ! 

If the mind be only sometimes annihilated with 
the body, it must sometimes survive it ; but an 
argument that would make one class of men mor- 
tal, and another immortal, by proving too much, 
proves nothing, and must fall by its own absurdity. 
; Circa Deos negligentur quippe addictus mathe- 
matical* is an accusation that is not, I fear, con- 
fined in the present day to any particular pursuit ; 
for as there have been some mathematicians so 
devout as to fancy they have discovered the trinity 
in a triangle, so there are some anatomists who wil? 
not believe in the existence of a soul, because they 

* One devoted to mathematics, tuai i the gods slightly. Pub. 



424 LACOrf, 

have never yet been able to transfix if upon tlW> 
point of their knife : vet methinks there is one 
circumstance that ought to lower the dogmatical 
confidence of the materialist; and this is 5 that mind 
happens to be the only thing on whose existence we 
can by intuition itseli rely. We may go on heap- 
ing proof upon proof, and experiment upon expert 
ment, to establish, as we suppose, the reality of 
matter, and after we have done all this, I know not 
of one satisfactory answer that we could give, to 
those who chose to affirm that with all our pains, we 
have only established the reality, not of matter, 
but of sensation. We may also doubt about the 
existence of matter, as learnedly and as long as 
we please, as some have done before us, and yet 
we shall not establish the existence of matter by 
any such dubitations ; but the moment we begin to 
doubt about the existence of mind, the very act of 
doubting proves it. 

Another great source of error, in this most im- 
portant of all questions, is the mistaking of a strong 
but inexplicable connexion, for an inseparable iden- 
tity. In the first place, I should humbly conceive 
that it is quite as unphilosophical to say that a 
lump of brain thinks, as that an eye sees ; the one, 
indeed, ministers to thought, as the other to vision ; 
for the eye, although it be necessary and subser- 
vient, to vision, can, strictly speaking, no more be 
said to see, than a microscope or a telescope ; it is 
indeed, a finer instrument than either, but still an 
instrument, and capable of being assisted by both. 
This observation would apply, mutatis mutandis, 
to all of the senses, but I have selected that of 
vision, as the most refined. We all know that the 
two eyes paint two minute and inverted images of 



h A C K . 336 

an object, upon the retina ; having done this, they 
have done all that is expected of them. What 
power is it then that rectifies all the errors of this 
machinery, as to number, position and size, and 
presents us with one upright object, in its just 
dimensions and proportions ? All this is certainly 
not effected by the eyes, for a paralysis of the 
optic nerve instantly and totally destroys their 
powers, without in the slightest manner affecting 
their organization. The optic nerve, then,- it seems, 
and the eye, are both necessary to vision, but are 
they all that is necessary ? Certainly not ; because 
if we proceed a little farther, we shall find that 
certain effects, operating upon the brain, will com- 
pletely and instantly destroy the powers of vision, 
the optic nerve and the eye both remaining unal- 
tered and undisturbed. How then are these ef- 
fects produced ? are their causes always mechan- 
ical, as from pressure, or the violence of a blow ? 
No, they are often morbid, the result of increased 
action, brought on by inflammation, or of diseased 
structure, superinduced by abscess. Are there not 
causes neither morbid nor mechanical, that have 
been found capable of producing similar effects ? 
Yes — a few sounds acting on the tympanum of the 
ear, or a few black and small figures scribbled on a 
piece of white paper, have been known to knock a 
man down as effectually as a sledge hammer, and 
«:o deprive him not only of vision, but even of life. 
Here then we have instances of mind acting upon 
matter, and I by no means affirm that matter docs 
not -dUo act upon mind ; for to those who advocate 
the intimate connexion between body and mind, 
ihese reciprocities of action are easily reconcile- 
able ; but tins will be an insuperable difficulty to 
28 



$26 LACON. 

those who affirm the identity of mind and body 
which however is not for us, but for those who 
maintain this doctrine, to overcome. If mind be 
indeed so inseparably identified with matter, that 
the dissolution of the one must necessarily involve 
the destruction of the other, how comes it to pass 
that we so often see the body survive the mind in 
one man, and the mind survive the body in an- 
other ? Why do they not agree to die together ? 
How happened it that the body of Swift became 
for so many years the living tomb of his mind ; 
and, as in some cases of paralysis, how are we to 
account for the phenomena of the body, reduced to 
the most deplorable and helpless debility, without 
any corresponding weakness or hebetation of the 
mind 1 Again, if the mind be indeed not the tenant 
of the corporeal dwelling, but an absolute and 
component part of the dwelling itself, where does 
the mysterious but tangible palladium of this temple 
reside ? Where are we to go to find it, since, if 
material, why cannot it be felt, handled, and seen ? 
She resides, we are informed, in the inmostrecesses 
of her sensorium, the brain ; a mere assertion that 
can never be proved ; for if she doth indeed 
enlighten this little citadel, it is with a ray like that 
of those sepulchral lamps, which, the instant we 
discover, we destroy. If we return to the evidence 
of facts, the dissections carried on by Morgagni, 
Haller, Bonnet, and others, do most thoroughly 
and irrefutably establish one most important, and to 
me at least, consoling truth ; that there is no part 
of the brain, either cortical, or medullary, not even 
the pineal gland itself, that has not, in one instance 
or in another, been totally destroyed by disease, but 
without producing in the patient any corresponding 



LA CON. S27 

alienation or hallucination of mind ; in some cases, 
without any suspicion of such disease during life, 
and without any discovery of it, until after death, 
by dissection. We shall be told, perhaps, that the 
thinking faculty may be something residing in the 
very centre of the pineal gland, but so minute as to 
survive the destruction even of that in which it ig 
enclosed. The pineal gland does indeed contain a 
few particles of a schistous or gritty substance, 
but which, alas, prove little for the argument of 
him who would designate thought to be nothing 
more than the result of a more curious and com- 
plicated organization ; since these particles, on 
examination, turn out to be nothing more nor less 
than phosphate of lime ! 

This intimate union between body and mind, is 
in fact analogous to all that we see, and feel, and 
comprehend. Thus we observe that the material 
stimuli of alcohol, or of opium, act upon the mind 
through the body, and that the moral stimuli of 
k)ve, or of anger, act upon the body through the 
mind ; these are reciprocities of action, that estab- 
lish the principle of connexion between the two, 
but are fatal t© that of an identity. 

Those who would persuade us that the thinking 
faculty is an identical part of the body, maturescent 
in it, and dying with it, impose, a very heavy task 
upon themselves ; and if we consider the insupe- 
rable difficulties of their creed on the one hand, and 
the air of conviction with which they defend it on 
the other, we are perhaps justified in affirming that 
these men are the very last persons in the universe, 
to whom the name of skeptic ought to be applied ; 
but a dogmatic doubter, although it may be a some- 
thing beyond our philosophy, is too often not 



328 LAC ON: 

beyond our observation. We, I repeal, contend 
for a strong but inexplicable connexion between 
body and mind ; and upon this principle all the 
sympathies of mutual pleasure and of pain, and all 
the reciprocities of rest and of action, are both 
natural and intelligible. Those who advocate the 
identity of the body and the mind, will find that 
they have embraced a theory surrounded by facts 
that oppose it at every point, facts which their sys- 
tem will neither enable them to explain, nor their 
experience to deny. Does not every passion of 
the mind act directly, primarily, and as it were per 
se, upon the body ; with greater or with lesser 
influence in proportion to their force ? Does not 
the activity belong on this occasion to the mind, 
and the mere passiveness to the body ? Does not 
the quickened circulation follow the anger, the start 
the surprise, and the swoon the sorrow ? Do not 
these instances, and a thousand others, clearly con- 
vince us that priority of action here belongs to tho 
snind, and not to the body ? and those who deny 
this are reduced to the ridiculous absurdity of 
attempting to prove that a man is frightened 
because he runs away, not that he runs away 
because he is frightened, and that the motion pro- 
duces the terror, not the terror the motion ; a kind 
of logic this, that would become a FalstaiT much 
better than a philosopher. Again, is not mania * 

* I shall insert a note from Dr. John Armstrong on Fe- 
ver, p. 478, which those who only look at will think too 
long, but those who read will think too short. 

1 It will have been perceived, that I consider insanity as 
the effect of some disorder in the circulation, whether pro- 
duced by agencies of a corporeal or mental nature. It 
might be shown by familiar facts, that the brain is the prin- 
cipal organ through which the operations of the mind are 



LACON, 339 

produced by moral causes, quite as often as by phy- 
sical, and has not that mode of cure succeeded 
best, which was instituted with a reference to this 



performed- ; and it does not, as many have supposed, neces- 
sarily involve the doetrine of materialism to affirm, that 
certain disorders of that organ are capable of disturbing 
those operations. If the most skilful musician in the world 
were placed before an unstrung or broken instrument, he 
could not produce the harmony which he was accustomed 
to do when that instrument was perfect, nay, on the con- 
trary, the sounds would be discordant ; and yet it would be 
manifestly most illogical to conclude, from such an effect, 
that the powers of the musician were impaired, since they 
merely appeared to be so from the imperfection of the instru- 
ment. Now, what the instrument is to the musician, the 
brain may be to the mind, for aught we know to the con- 
trary ; and, to pursue the figure, as the musician has an 
existence distinct from that of the instrument, so the mind 
may have an existence distinct from that of the brain; for 
in truth we have no proof whatever of mind being a pro- 
perty dependant upon any arrangement of matter. We 
perceive, indeed, the properties of matter wonderfully 
modified in the various things of the universe, which strike 
our senses with the force of their sublimity or beauty ; but 
in all these we recognise certain radical and common pro- 
perties, that bear no conceivable relation to those mysteri- 
ous capacities of thought and of feeling, referable to that 
something which, to designate and distinguish from mat- 
ter, we term mind. In this way, I conceive the common 
sense of mankind has made the distinction which every 
where obtains between mind and matter, for it is natural 
to conclude, that the essence of mind may be distinct from 
the essence of matter, as the operations of the one are so 
distinct from the properties of the other. "When we say 
that mind is immaterial, we only mean that it has not the 
properties of matter ; for the consciousness which informs 
us of the operations, does not reveal the abstract nature of 
mind, neither do the properties reveal the essence of mat- 
ter. When any one, therefore, assferts the materiality of 
mind, he pre-supposes, that the phenomena of matter clear- 
ly show the jeal cause of mind, which, as they do not, he 
unphilosophically places his argument on an assumption \ 
28* 



330 LAC OK, 

cause ? On examination, after death, of those wh& 
have laboured under chronic mania, it most usually 
happens that no difference of structure is percepti- 
ble in the brain on dissection. If, however, in 
some few instances there has been a perceptible 
difference, will not a retrospection to the mental 
origin of the malady, justly warrant us in asserting 
that the derangement of structure was not the cause, 
but is the consequence of the disease ? That so 
many instances should occur where no such differ- 
ence of structure is perceptible, is analagous to 
what so often happens in other disorders, where a 
total functional derangement is unaccompanied by 
the slightest organic destruction. 

It is admitted that each and every component 
particle of the body is changed in the course of 
twenty years, and that corporeal identity is by 
these means so totally destroyed, that a man who 
lives to sixty shall have gradually received three 
distinct bodies, the last of which shall not contain 
one individual atom that composed the first. But 
those who would persuade us that mind is an abso- 
lute and component part of the body, so completely 
ingrafted as it were and incorporated with It, that 
the thinking faculty is only the result of a more 
curious and complicated organization, must admit, 
that the mind must sympathize not partially, but 
wholly with these changes of the body ; changes 
so powerful, that they must effect the total destruc- 
tion of moral identity, as they certainly do of that 

and his ground of reasoning is equally gratuitous — when 
he contends, that mind is an attribute of matter, because it 
is never known to operate but in conjunction with matter, 
for though this connexion is constantly displayed, yet w© 
have no direct proof of its being necessary. 



1, AC OH. 331 

\Vhioli is corporeal. The .materialist must admit 
this absurdity, as his only means of escaping a 
greater, namely, that a whole shall not be altered, 
notwithstanding a total change of all the parts that 
composed it. If indeed the materialist is inclined 
to admit that these changes do alter the body, but 
not the mind, then indeed he admits that which is 
true ; but truth itself may be bought too dear, in 
the opinion of some, if the confession of then- 
defeat be the price ; the admission alluded to 
above, is in fact all the confession for which we 
contend, namely, that body and mind, although 
they are united, are also distinct. In a former 
part of this argument, I have admitted that the 
proposition that the mind is infantile with the body, 
is a general rule disturbed by no exceptions. But 
this truism, I presume, will perform but little, either 
for the materialist, or against him, because the 
terms are convertible. The mind is infantile with 
the body, says the materialist ; but has not the 
immaterialist quite as much reason on his side, 
should he feel inclined to assert that the body is 
infantile with the mind ? Observe, we do not con- 
tend that the mind has no beginning, but that it 
shall have no end, and it appears that the body is 
appointed to be the first stage of its existence. 
Therefore I should rather affirm that the body is 
infantile with the mind, than that the mind is infan- 
tile with the body, and that a fuller and stronger 
demonstration of all the powers and faculties of 
the mind evinces itself in proportion as a more 
matured development of the organs of the body 
enables it passively to receive the impressions, and 
actively to execute the sovereign volitions of tho 



332 LACO If, 

mind. In confirmation of this mode of considering 
the subject, we may observe that children often 
have a tolerable idea of the thing desired or feared, 
long before they are able to express the term by 
which it is described. The mind precedes the 
tongue ; and the effort and wish to speak evinces 
itself much earlier than the power to do so. The 
distinguishing and endearing characteristics of 
mother are sufficiently understood by the infant, 
long before it can call her by name ; and the 
infantile mind is not without a thousand modes 
of expressing its feelings, long before the lagging 
organs of the body are sufficiently developed to 
accomplish the articulation of them. 

If mind be material, it must be both extended 
and divisible, for these are properties inseparable 
from matter. The absurdity of such a supposition 
startled even the boldest of skeptics, because he- 
happened also to be the most acute ; I shall there- 
fore quote a passage from Mr. Hume, who will be 
allowed by materialists, at least, to be an orthodox 
authority. 'There is one argument, (says he,) 
commonly employed for the immateriality of the 
soul, which seems to be remarkable : whatever is 
extended, consists of parts, and whatever consists 
of parts, is divisible, if not in reality, at least in the 
imagination. It is impossible any thing divisible 
can be conjoined to a thought or a perception, 
which is a being altogether inseparable and indi- 
visible. For, supposing such a conjunction, would 
the indivisible thought exist on the left hand, or on 
the right of this extended divisible body ; on the 
surface, or in the middle, on the back or foreside 
of it 1 If it be conjoined with the extension, it 
must exist somewhere within its dimensions. If it 



LAC OX. 333 

exist within its dimensions, it must either exist in 
one particular part, and then that particular part is 
indivisible, and the perception is conjoined only 
with it, not with the extension ; or if the thought 
exists in every part, it must also be extended, and 
separable, and divisible, as well as the body ; which 
is utterly absurd and contradictory. For can any 
one conceive a passion of a yard in length, a foot 
in breadth, and an inch in thickness ? Thought, 
therefore, and extension, are qualities wholly incom- 
patible, and can never incorporate together into 
one subject.' Mr. Hume seems to have been so 
fully convinced by the positions which this argu- 
ment contains, that he has laboured to push its 
conclusions even up to the establishment of that 
celebrated paradox so formally laid down, and so 
stoutly defended by him. ' This maxim (to use 
again his own words) is, that an object may exist, 
and yet he nowhere, and I assert (says he) that 
this is»not only possible, but that the greatest part 
of beings (by which he afterwards gives us to 
understand he means impressions and ideas) do 
and must exist after this manner. A moral reflec- 
tion (says he) cannot be placed either on the right 
or on the left hand of a passion, nor can a smell or 
a sound be either of a circular or square figure. 
These objects and perceptions, so far from requiring 
any particular places, are absolutely incompatible 
with it, and the imagination cannot attribute it to 
them.' 

These passages prove that materialists will some- 
times find Mr. Hume to be a very dangerous ally. 
Again, all mind is conscious of its own existence ; 
but if mind be material, matter must be conscious 
«f its own existence too ; for this consciousness 13 



3& LAC01 

inseparable from mind, and if mind be composed 
of matter, that which is inseparable from the one, 
cannot be denied to the other. These are some 
of the absurdities which the capacious credulity of 
infidelity, and the bold belief of unbelievers, will find 
it more easy to; swallow than to digest. It has 
been urged by some, that a total, though temporal 
suspension of the thinking faculty takes place 
during sleep, and that a faculty that may be 
suspended, may also be destroyed. It is evident 
that this again must be mere assertion that can 
never be proved - r on the contrary, dreams go to 
prove that there are seasons when the thinking 
faculty is not suspended by sleep ; but since it is 
manifest that sleep caraiot suspend it at all times, 
it may not suspend it at any time. We- have 
recollections of mental operations going on during 
sleep, which recollections are extremely vivid on 
some occasions, and on some occasions equally 
faint and confused. These recollections va^y from 
reality, almost down to nothingness, and these 
recollections we term a dream. These operations 
of the thinking faculty may, for aught we know to 
the contrary, have been going on< during sleep, 
unaccompanied by any after recollection of them 
when awake ; and the gradations of distinctness 
with which we recollect our clreams> are confirm- 
atory of such an hypothesis. I conceive analogy 
will also assist us here ; for I would ask one simple 
question with respect to our waking thoughts : 
have we not all forgot more of them than we 
remember ? and yet none of us, 1 presume, are 
prepared to deny the existence of these thoughts 
on such a ground. To those who prefer a shorter 
method of putting the argument, I would say that 



LACON. 333 

our apprehension of the operation of thought is not 
necessary to the existence of it ; but that its 
existence is absolutely necessary to our apprehen- 
sion of it. 

If mind be, indeed, material, what has death to 
do with the annihilation of it ? for death has no 
no such power over matter. We are told that * the 
thinking faculty is nothing more than the result of a 
more curious and complicated organization? Yet 
what is this, but an attempt to illustrate that which 
is obscure, by an explanation which is more so ? 
Can we, for one moment, believe that a mere juxta- 
position of parts is able to convey the highest 
activity and energy to that whose very essence il 
is, to be, on all other occasions, of all created 
things, the most inactive and inert 1 If we request 
the materialist to explain this kind of hocus pocus y 
I suspect he can only do it by repeating hoc est 
corpus, the well-known etymology of the term. In 
a former part of this article I have quoted a 
passage from Mr. Hume. The passage occurs in 
a work which he afterwards apologized for, and 
requested that the public would not consider it as 
containing his more matured philosophical opinions. 
He imbodied, however, a great part of this work 
afterwards into his essays, against which he enters 
no such caveat ; and it is known that he himself 
considered these essays his master-piece, and in 
them the positions contained in the article I have 
quoted, are repeatedly referred to, and confirmed. 
In these essays, the following passage occurs : ' Is 
there any principle in all nature more mysterious 
than the union of soul with body ; by which a sup 
posed spiritual substance acquires such an influ- 
ence over a material 4 one. that the most refined 



336 LA COX. 

thought is able to actuate the grossest matter £ 
were we empowered by a secret wish, to remove 
mountains, or control the planets in their orbit, 
this extensive authority would not be more extra- 
ordinary, nor more beyond our apprehension.' How 
unfortunate was Mr. Hume that he did not live in 
this enlightened age; when he might have been 
informed that this most inexplicable phenomenon 
was, after all, the result of the most simple contri- 
vance, arising from nothing more nor less than a 
very slight alteration in the juxtaposition of a few 
particles of matter ! for the thinking faculty (we 
hear) is only the result of a more curious and coin- 
plicated organization ! Nature, then, it would seem, 
no less than art, has her cups, and her balls, and a 
small portion of matter thrown into the inside of ;* 
little globe of bone, acquires properties and powers 
diametrically opposite to all those, which on the 
outside of it, it has been ascertained invariably to 
possess. Neither does that gulf of insurmountable 
ignorance, under which we labour, as to the nature 
of this mysterious union of body and mind, invali- 
date in the slighest degree the proofs of its 
existence ; for no one, I presume, w T ill be hardy 
enough to deny the existence of life ; and yet the 
union of life with body is quite as inexplicable as 
the union of mind, superadded to both. Let us, 
then, be as candid in the one case, as in the other, 
and apply the same reasoning to mind, that we 
have all consented to, with regard to life. Let us 
affirm of both of them, that wo know nothing of 
cither, but by their effects, which effects, however, 
do most fully and firmly establish their existence. 

If that marvellous microcosm, man, with all the 
costly cargo of his faculties and powers, were 



& A C Q Jf . 337 

indeed a rich Argosy, fitted out and freighted only 
for shipwreck and destruction, who amongst us that 
tolerate the present, only from the hope of the 
future ; who that have any aspirings of a high and 
intellectual nature about them, could be brought to 
submit to the disgusting mortifications of the 
voyage ? As to the common and the sensual herd, 
who would be glad, perhaps, under any terms, to 
sweat and groan beneath the load of life, they would 
find that the creed of the materialist, would only 
give a fuller swing to the suicidal energies of a self- 
ism as unprincipled as unrelenting ; a selfism that 
would not only make that giftless gift of life a 
boon the most difficult to preserve, but would at the 
same time render it wholly unworthy of the task 
and the trouble of its preservation. Knowledge 
herself, the fairest daughter of heaven, would be 
immediately transformed into a changeling of hell ; 
the brightest reason would be the blackest curse, 
and weakness more salutary than strength; for the 
villany of man would increase with the depravity of 
his will, and the depravity o( his will, with every aug- 
mentation of his power. The force of intellect im- 
parted to that which was corrupt, would be like the 
destructive energies communicated by an earth- 
quake, to that which is inert ; where even things in- 
animate, as rocks and mountains, seem endowed 
with a momentary impulse of motion and of life, 
only to overwhelm, to destroy, and to be destroyed. 
Justice is usually depicted as having no eyes, but 
holding a sword in one hand, and a pair of scales 
in the other. * Under a system that destroyed the 

* The awful importance of the above article must excuse 
he length of it ; and to show that I am not singular in my 
View of its scope and bearings, I shall finish bv a quotation 
29 



333 LA CON. 

awful obligations of an oath, what could justice 
weigh 1 she must renounce her scales, and apply 
both her hands to the sword ; and it would be a 

from a work just published, which has many readers, and 
will certainly nave more : ' There is another more impor- 
tant relation in which the mind is still to be viewed — that re- 
lation which connects it with the Almighty Being to whom 
it owes its existence. Is man, whose frail generations be- 
gin and pass away, but one of the links of an infinite chain 
of beings like himself, uncaused, and coeternal with that 
self-existmg world of which he is the feeble tenant 1 or is 
he the offspring of an all-creating Power, that adapted him 
to nature and nature to him, formed, together with the mag- 
nificent scene of things around him, to enjoy its blessings, 
and to adore, with the gratitude of happiness, the wisdom 
and goodness from which they flow % What attributes of 
a Being so transcendent, may human reason presume to 
explore ^ and what homage will be most suitable to his 
immensity and our nothingness 1 Is it only for an existence 
of a few moments in this passing scene, that he has formed 
us 1 or, is there something within us, over which death has 
no power, — something, that prolongs and identifies the 
consciousness of all that we have dune on earth, and that, 
after the mortality of the body, may yet be a subject of the 
moral government of God % When compared with these 
questions, even the sublimest physical inquiries are com- 
paratively insignificant. They seem to differ, as it has been 
said, in their relative importance and dignity, almost as 
philosophy itself differs from the mechanical arts that are 
subservient to it. * Quantum inter philosophiam interest —^ 
et c&teras artes; tantum inter esse ezistimo in ipsaphilosophia, 
inter illam partem quce ad hvminis et kan-c qucc, ad Dcos spec- 
tat. Altiorest haze et animosior t multum permisit sibi; own 
fuit oculis contenta. Majus esse quiddam susptcata est, ac 
pulchrius, quod extra coiispcctum, natura posuisset'* It is 
when ascending to these sublimer objects, that the mind 
seems to expand, as if already shaking ofl its earthly fetters, 
and returning to its source : and it is scarcely too much to 

* So much is in philosophy and other arts, as I think to be in that 
philosophy which on the one part regards men, and on the other the 
gods—this latter is more lofty and energetic — it intrusts much to itself 
—-not satisfied with the eyes— it suspects that to be greater and mora 
beautiful which nature might have placed out of sight. 



LACON. 339 

bloody sword, strong, indeed, to exterminate, but 
feeble to correct. As to justice herself, she would 
not only be more blind than Polyphemus, but she 
would also want more hands than Briareus, to en- 
able her to combat the hydra-headed monster of 



There are some characters who appear to super- 
ficial observers to be full of contradiction, change, 
and inconsistency, and yet they that are in the 
secret of w r hat such persons are driving at, know 
that they are the very reverse of what they appear 
to be, and that they have one single object in view, 
to which they as pertinaciously adhere, through 
every circumstance of change, as the hound to the 
hare, through all her mazes and doublings. We 
know that a windmill is eternally at work taaccom^ 
plish one end, although it shifts with every varia- 
tion of the weathercock, and assumes ten different 
positions in a day. 



There is nothing that requires so strict an econ- 
omy as our benevolence. We should husband 
our means as the agriculturist his manure, which 
if he spread over too large a superficies, produces 
no crop, if over too small a surface, exuberates in 
rankness and in weeds. 



The women are satisfied with less than the men ; 
and yet, notwithstanding this, they are less easily 

say, that the delight which it thus takes in things divine is 
an internal evidence of its own divinity. ' Cum ilia tetigit, 
alilur, wescit : ac velut vinculis liberatus, in originem re- 
dit. Et hoc habet argumentum divinitatis sute, quod Mam 
divina delectant.'* 

" When she moves forward cherished, she increases— and this i» 
*n argument of her divinity that divine things pleaao her. 



340 LACON. 

satisfied. In the first place — preference and pre 
cadence are indispensable articles with them, if 
we would have our favours graciously received ; 
they look, moreover, to the mode, the manner, and 
the address, rather than to the value of the obliga^ 
tion, and estimate it more by the time, the cost, and 
the trouble we may have expended upon it, than by 
its intrinsic worth. Attention is ever current coin 
with the ladies, and they weigh the heart much 
more scrupulously than the hand. A wealthy suiter 
purchases a watch for his idol, studded with gems ; 
an artificer makes a far less costly one for his 
favourite, and I need not add which will be most 
propitiously received, since there will be one person 
at least in the world, who will be certain that 
during the whole process of the fabrication of the 
present, the donor was thinking of her for whom 
it was designed. 



Pride differs in many things from vanity, and by 
gradations that never blend, although they may be 
somewhat indistinguishable. Pride may, perhaps, 
be termed a too high opinion of ourselves, founded 
on the overrating of certain qualities that we do 
actually possess; whereas vanity is more easily 
satisfied, and can extract a feeling of self-compla- 
cency, from qualifications that are imaginary. 
Vanity can also feed upon externals, but pride must 
have more or less of that which is intrinsic : the 
proud, therefore, do not set so high a value upon 
wealth as the vain, neither are they so much 
depressed by poverty. Vanity looks to the many, 
and to the moment ; pride to the future, and the 
few ; hence pride has more difficulties, and vanity 
more disappointments ; neither does she bear them 



IrAOON. 341 

so well, for she at times distrusts herself, whereas 
pride despises others. For the vain man cannot 
always be certain of the validity of his pretensions, 
because they are often as empty as^ that very vanity 
that has created them ; therefore it is necessary for 
his happiness, that they should be confirmed by the 
opinion of his neighbours, and his own vote in 
favour of himself he thinks of little weight, until it 
be backed by the suffrages of others. The vain 
man idolizes his own person, and here he is wrong ; 
but he cannot bear his own company, and here he 
is right. The proud man wants no such confirma- 
tions ; his pretensions may be small, but they are 
something, and his error lies in overrating them. 
If others appreciate his merits less highly, he attri- 
butes it either to their envy, or to their ignorance, 
and enjoys in prospect the period when time shall 
have removed the film from their eyes. Therefore 
the proud man can afford to wait, because he has no 
doubt of the strength of his capital, and can also 
live, by anticipation, on that fame which he has per 
suaded himself that he deserves. He often draws 
indeed too largely upon posterity, but even here he 
is safe ; for should the bills be dishonoured, this 
cannot happen until that debt, which cancels all 
others, shall have been paid. 



Few things are more agreeable to self-love than 
revenge, and yet no cause so effectually restrains 
us from revenge, as self-love. And this paradox 
naturally suggests another — that the strength ot 
the community is not un frequently built upon the 
weakness of those individuals that compose it ; a 
position not quite so clear as the first, but, I con- 
ceive, equally tenable and true. We receive an 
29* 



m LAC ON. 

injury, and we are so constituted that the iirst con* 
sideration with most of us is revenge. If we 
happen, to be kings, or prime ministers, we go 
straight forward to work, unless indeed it should 
happen, that those that have inflicted the injury 
are as powerful as those that have received it- 
It is fortunate, however, for the interests of soci- 
ety, that the great mass of mankind are neither 
kings, nor prime ministers, and that men are so 
impotent that they can seldom bring evil upon 
others, without more or less danger to themselves. 
Thus then it is that public strength, security, and 
confidence, grow out of private weakness, danger 
and fear. These considerations have given rise to 
this saying : ' It is letter to quarrel with a knave 
than with a fool ;' for with the latter all considers. 
tion of consequence to himself, is swallowed up 
and lost in the blind and brutal impulse that goads 
him on to bring evil upon another. We hate our 
enemy much, but we love ourselves more. We 
have been injured, but we will not avail ourselves 
of the legal means of redress, because of the cer- 
tain expense and trouble, and the uncertain sue 
cess ; neither will we resort to illegal modes of 
retaliation, because we will not run the risk of the 
mortification, the disgrace, and the danger of a dis- 
covery ; for it is as difficult for revenge to act 
without exciting suspicion, as for a rattlesnake to 
stir without making a noise. The result is, that 
we are quiet, and self-love is made to correct its 
own violence, as a steam-engine its own velocity, 
and the fear of danger effects for the one, what 
the safety-valve accomplishes for the other. And 
it is highly necessary that things should be so, for 
retaliation aggravates resentment, and resentment 



LACO^. 543 

produces fresh retaliation ; therefore, were thero 
nothing to restrain these causes from acting reci- 
procally upon each other, the destruction of alJ 
society must be the consequence, and a conflagra- 
tion would be excited in *he moral world, like that 
which is observable in the natural, where the firo 
increases the wind, and the wind increases the fire 



In the whole course of our observation there is 
not so misrepresented and abused a personage as 
death. Some have styled him the king of terrors, 
when he might with less impropriety have been 
termed the terror of kings ; others have dreaded 
him as an evil without end, although it was in their 
own power to make him the end of all evil. He 
has been vilified as the cause of anguish, conster- 
nation, and despair ; but these, alas, are things that 
appertain not unto death, but unto life. How 
strange a paradox is this, we love the distemper 
and loathe the remedy, preferring the fiercest buf- 
ferings of the hurricane to the tranquillity of the 
harbour. The poet has lent his fictions, the painter 
his colours, the orator his tropes, to portray death 
as the grand destroyer, the enemy, the prince of 
phantoms and of shades. But can he be called a 
destroyer, who for a perishable state gives us that 
which is eternal ? Can he be styled the enemy, 
who is the best friend only of the best, who never 
deserts them at their utmost need, and whose friend- 
ship proves the most valuable to those who live the 
longest ? Can he be termed the prince of phan- 
toms and of shades, who destroys that which is 
transient and temporary, to establish that which 
alone is real and fixed ? And what arc the mourn- 
J\A escutcheons, the sable trophies, and the melan* 



;m lacon. 

eholy insignia with which we surround him, the 
sepulchral gloom, the mouldering carcass, and the 
slimy worm ? These, indeed, are the idle fears and 
empty terrors, not of the dead, but of the living. 
The dark domain of death we dread indeed to 
enter, but we ought rather to dread the ruggedness 
of some of the roads that lead to it ; but if they 
are rugged, they are short, and it is- only those that 
are smooth, that are wearisome and long. Perhaps 
he summons us too soon from the feast of life, be 
it so ; if the exchange be not for the better, it is 
not his fault, but our own : or he summons us late - r 
the call is a reprieve, rather than a sentence ; for 
who would wish to sit at the board, when he can 
no 'longer partake of the banquet, or to live on to 
pain, when he has long been dead to pleasure 1 
Tyrants can sentence their victims to death, but- how 
much more dreadful would be their power, could 
they sentence them to life? Life is the jailer of 
the soul in this filthy prison, and its only deliverer 
is death ; what we call life is a journey to death, 
and what we call death, is a passport to life. True 
wisdom thanks death for what he takes, and still 
more for what he brings. Let us then like senti- 
nels, be ready, because we are uncertain, and calm 
because we are prepared. There is nothing formi- 
dable about death but the consequences of it, and 
these we ourselves can regulate and control. The 
shortest life is long enough if it lead to a better, 
and the longest life is too short if it do not. 



As in the game of billiards, the balls are con 
stantly producing effects from mere chance, which 
the most skilful player could neither execute nor 
foresee, but which, when they do happen, serve 



LA CON. 346 

mainly to teach him how much he has still to learn ; 
so it is in the more profound and complicated game 
of politics and diplomacy. In both cases, we can 
only regulate our play by what we have seen, 
rather than by what we have hoped ; and by what 
tve have experienced, rather than by what we have 
expected. For one character that appears on the 
theatre of human affairs that can rule events, there 
are ten thousand that can follow* them, sometimes 

* It is astonishing how many men the French revolution 
obliged to be great, even in spite of themselves. Events 
hurried on the political machine with such tremendous 
rapidity, that the passengers were compelled to travel not 
only faster, but farther than they had bargained for; most 
of them would very gladly have given up their places, had it 
not been more dangerous to jump out, even than it was to 
remain. There are four men who might have written the 
most interesting volumes that ever were bequeathed to pos- 
terity, could we only ensure two things, that their own 
egotism would permit them to be candid, or that c the powers 
that be* would permit their details to be read. Of the men I 
allude to, two are no more, and two remain — Bonaparte, 
Talleyrand, Sieves, and Carnot. Such men as Talleyrand, 
Sie) r es, Mazarin, Richelieu, and De Retz, go to prove that 
what Lord Chatham termed the college of fishermen, had 
very different views of their vocation," from the college of 
cardinals, and infallibility itself must prove itself fallible, 
the instant it sets about to reconcile the career of these men, 
with the life and doctrine Gf Him who expressly said: — 
' My king dom is not of this icorldJ l Be ye not called Rabbi. 1 
I shall finish this note with a quotation from the text and note* 
of ■ Hypocrisy,' as the passage contains an anecdote of 
S&W* es, and an application of some lines of Juvenal to hiirj, 
i r h>'*h have been thought hupp}', but the reader must judge ; 

As Sieves shrewd, who in the direst times, 
When Paris reeked with cruelty and crimes. 
By turns ruled all ; — and as each colleague bled, 
Contrived — no trifling tabk — to wear a head; 
Though favourites daily fall, dragged forth to d*'e 
Unheard, or ore thcii plaster busts were dry.* 



346 LACON. 

with more success than these master-minds, always- 
with more safety. He that undertakes to guide 
the vessel, may at last be swept away from the 
helm, by the hurricane ; while those who have 
battened themselves down, determined to follow 
the fate of their vessel, rather than to guide it, 
may arrive safe on the shore. Fortune, like other 
females, prefers a lover to a master, and submits 
with impatience to control ;. but he that woos he? 
with opportunity, and importunity, will seldom 
court her in vain. 



It is astonishing how much more anxious people 
are to lengthen life than to improve it; and as* 
misers often lose large sums of money in attempt- 
ing to make more, so do hypochondriacs squander 
large sums of time in search of nostrums by which 
they vainly hope they may get mGire time to squan- 

Dr. Moore-,, father of the gallant general, was at Paris on 
the breaking out of the revolution. He wished to purchase 
a few of the busts of those demagogues who had, each in 
their turn, strutted their hour on that bloody stage. ' All, 
sir V exclaimed- the artist,, 'ours has been a losing trade 01 
}ate : as the real heads have often taken leave of the shoul- 
ders of their owners before the artificial ones. w r hich Ave 
were modelling, could be exhibited for sale. It then became- 
as dangerous to have them, as before it was to be without 
them. But here, sir,' said he, handing him the bust of the 
Abbe Sieves, ' here is a head that has not yet quarrelled 
with its shoulders. This head in some degree makes up 
for what we have lost by its companions ; it is in great 
request still, and sells welV 

The Abbe has lately had much leisure time upon his 
hands : may we indulge the hope that he hns employed ii 
in preparing the history of his own times 1 If to this deli- 
cate task he would bring the honesty of Burnet, without 
his credulity,, he might bequeath to posterity the most h> 
teresting volume thai ever was written* — Krv.jia «$ <utt. 



LA COX. 347 

4er. Thus the diurnals give us ten thousand 
recipes to live long, for one to live well, and hence 
the use of the present which Ave have, is thrown 
away in idle schemes of how we may abuse that 
future we may not have. No man can promise 
himself even fifty years of life : ; but any man may, 
if he please, live in the proportion of fifty years, in 
forty ; — let him rise early, that he may have the day 
before him, and let him make the most of the day, 
hy determining to expend it on two sorts of acquaint* 
ance only, those by whom something may be got, 
and those from whom something may be learned. 



The rich patient cures the poor physician much 
more often than the poor physician the rich patient ; 
and it is rather paradoxical, that the rapid recovery 
of the one usually depends upon the procrastinated 
disorder of the other. Some persons will tell you 
with an air of the miraculous, that they recovered 
although they were given over, whereas they might 
with more reason have said, they recoveied because 
they were given over. 

The most adroit flattery is that which counter* 
feits a resentment at hearing our darling opinions 
so sturdily attacked, yet counterfeits it, only to 
bestow the mead of a victory wrested from us, as 
we pretendj by the more forcible weapons of our 
opponent. 

If a legislator were to transport the robbed, but 
to encourage and reward the robber, ought we to 
wonder if felonies were frequent ? and in like man- 
aer, when women send the seduced to Coventry, 



343 h A C O 3* . 

but countenance and even court the seducer, ought 
we not to wonder if seductions were scarce ? 



We usually prefer ourselves to our revenge ; but 
there are cases where we prefer our revenge to 
ourselves. This reflection ought to make us 
extremely cautious how we too deeply injure ano- 
ther ; for revenge is a dreadful engine, even in tha 
feeblest hands; and as there are injuries which 
make life a burden, can we wonder if that burden 
be got rid of, by the very act that also sets us 
even with our enemy. 



There is a very cunning flattery, which great 
minds sometimes pay themselves, by condescend- 
ing to admire efforts corresponding with, but vastly 
inferior to their own. This will help a close ob- 
server to account for a vast deal of otherwise unac- 
countable flummery that is hawked about in the 
market of fame, but very cheap like all other arti- 
cles that are so doubly unfortunate as to be not 
only stale, but a glut. 



The conduct of corporate bodies sometimes 
would incline one to suspect that criminality is with 
them, a matter of calculation rather than ot con- 
science, since the individuals that compose these 
bodies, provided they can only divide the weight 
of the odium attached to an obnoxious measure, 
have no objection to the full weight of the profit, 
and the whole weight of the guilt. I have heard 
of a plain countryman who had occasion to renew 
a fine in a certain diocess. He waited on every 
individual of the chapter separately — they were 
vastly civil ; one gave him brandy, another beer, a 



LAC ON. 349 

third wine, a fourth hollands, and so on. On 
the day following he appeared before them in their 
corporate capacity, when he found a terrible meta- 
morphosis had taken place, and it was not without 
difficulty he could persuade himself they were the 
same men. Having concluded a very hard bargain: 
' Gentlemen,' said our rustic, ' I can compare you 
to nothing but the good cheer I received at your 
houses yesterday ; taken separately you are excel- 
lent, but mix you together, and you are a mess for 
the d 1/ 



As the next thing to having wisdom ourselves, is 
to profit by that of others, so the next thing to 
having merit ourselves, is to take care that the 
meritorious profit by us ; for he that rewards the 
deserving, makes himself one of the number. 



The idle levy a very heavy tax upon the indus- 
trious, when by frivolous visitations they rob them 
of their time, S u ch per son s be g thei r c 1 a i 1 y ha ppi- 
ness from door to door, as beggars their daily 
bread, and like them, somSiimes meet with ? rebuff. 
A mere gossip ought not to wonder if we evince 
signs that we are tired of him, seeing thai we are 
indebted to the honour of his visit, solely to the 
circumstance of his being tired of himself. He 
sits at home until he has accumulated an insup 
portable load of ennui, and he sallies forth to dis- 
tribute, it among all his acquaintance. 



The priest should be careful not to act the 
reverse -of the physician, and in two most import 
ant points. The physician renders the most nau- 
seous prescription palatable, by the elegance of its 
30 



350 L A C O N . 

preparation, and the winning suavity with which it 
is recommended ; whereas the priest may possibly 
render a most refreshing cordial disgusting, by the 
injudicious addition of his own compounds, and 
the ungracious manner with which they are admin- 
istered. 



The character of a people is raised, when littla 
bickerings at home are made to give way to great 
events that are developing themselves abroad ; but 
the character of a people is degraded, when they 
are blind as to measures of the greatest moment 
abroad, by paltry jealousies at home. 

A man's profundity may keep him from opening 
on a first interview, and his caution on a second ; 
but I should suspect his emptiness, if he carried 
on his reserve to a third. 



Our vanity often inclines us to impute not only 
our successes, but even our disappointments, to 
causes personal, and strictly confined to ourselves, 
when, nevertheless, the* effects may have been 
removed from the supposed cause, far as the poles 
asunder. A zealous, and in his way, a very emi- 
nent preacher, whose eloquence is as copious, and 
far more lucid than the waters of his beloved Cam, 
happened to miss a constant auditor from his con- 
gregation. Schism had already made some depra- 
dations on the fold, which was not so large, but to 
a practised eye, the deduction of even one was per- 
ceptible. ' What keeps our friend farmer B. away 
from us ?' was the anxious question proposed by our 
vigilant minister to his clerk. * I have not seen him 
amongst us,' continued he, ( these three weeks ; I 



LACU.\. 351 

hope it is not Socinianism that keeps him away.' 
* No, your honour, 5 replied the clerk, ' it is some- 
thing worse than that.' ' Worse than Socinianism ! 
God forbid it should be deism.' ' No, your honour, 
it is something worse than that.' ' Worse than 
deism ! Good heavens, I trust it is not atheism !' 
1 No, your honour, it is something worse than that.' 
1 Worse than atheism ! impossible ; nothing can be 
worse than atheism p ' Yes it is, your honour — 
it is rheumatism? 

Friendship often ends in love ; but love, in friend- 
ship — never. 

To marry a rake, in the hope of reforming him, 
and to hire a highwayman, in the hope of reclaim- 
ing him, are two very dangerous experiments ; and 
yet I know a lady who fancies she has succeeded 
in the one, and all the world knows a divine who 
really has succeeded in the other. 



To write to please the lowest, few would, to 
write to please the highest, fewer can : we must 
cither stoop to the ignorance of the one, or sur- 
mount the envy of the other. Let us, then, strive 
to steer between them, if we would consult both 
our fortune and our fame. In the middle classes 
there is a measure of judgment fully equal to any 
demands we can make upon it — a judgment not too 
fastidious from vanity, nor too insensible from igno- 
rance ; and he that can balance the centre, may 
not be fearful of the two extremes. Were one 
half of the world philosophers, and the other fools, 
1 would either not have written these pages, or 
having written— burnt them. 



352 LACON, 

It is a curious paradox, that precisely in propor 
tion to our own intellectual weakness, will be our 
credulity as to those mysterious powers assumed 
by others; and in those regions of darkness and 
ignorance where man cannot effect even those 
things that are within the power of man, there we 
shall ever find that a blind belief in feats that are 
far beyond those powers, has taken the deepest 
root in the minds of the deceived, and produced 
the richest harvest to the knavery of the deceiver. 
An impostor that would starve in Edinburgh, might 
luxuriate in his Gyneeceum at Constantinople. But 
the more we know as to those things that can be 
done, the more skeptical do we become, as to all 
things that cannot. Hence it is that no man thinks 
so meanly of a prime minister, as his private secre 
tary, nor so humbly of a conjurer, as his own zany ; 
hence it is that no men have so little confidence in 
medicine as physicians, nor in works of superero- 
gation as monks ; notwithstanding both respectively 
prescribe each, to others. And the converse of 
this proposition, being perhaps equally true, it then 
affords the same kind of conviction to the philoso- 
pher, that the joint proof of synthesis and analy- 
sis doth to the chymist- And we might transpose, 
for brevity, the proposition thus — the less we know 
as to things that can be done, the less skeptical are 
we as to things that cannot. Hence it is that sail- 
ors and gamblers, though not over remarkable for 
their devotion, are even proverbial for their super- 
stition ; the solution of this phenomena is, that both 
these descriptions of men have so much to do with 
things beyond all possibility of being reduced 
either to rule or to reason — the winds and the 
waves — and the decisions of the dice box. The 



LACUN. 353 

gambler, indeed, abounds in two of the cardinal 
virtues — faith and hope; but as he lamentably 
fails in charity, which is greater than these — he is 
nothing. 



Those that are teaching the people to read, are 
doing all that in them lies to increase the power, 
and to extend the influence of those that can 
write ;* for the child will read to pjease his master, 
but the man, to please himself. 

* This question would require a volume, and all I shall 
observe upon it here, is, that a state of half knowledge in 
the lower orders, is far more dangerous to the tranquillity 
of a government than a state of ignorance ; for those that 
can see a little will submit to be led, far less readily than 
those that are blind ; and the little glimmering such have, 
does not enable them to distinguish between the false light 
of the demagogue, and the true light of the patriot ; between 
him who means their good, and him that means his own. 
But in spite of this, I am still an advocate for enlightening 
the people, notwftistanding this middle point must be passed 
in doing it ; but it is a stage in the progress of a nation re- 
quiring not only much of firmness, but much of concession 
too, on the part of the rulers. In fact, I know of no political 
problem where the adjustment of the balance of the suaviter 
and the fortiter is so nice, and at the same time so necessary. 
I shall make no apology for quoting here the words of a 
learned foreigner, in his preface of a most valuable work, 
addressed to Sir Robert Walpole, then prime minister of 
England. ' True and extensive knowledge never was, 
and never can be hurtful to the peace of society. It is 
ignorance, or which is far worse than ignorance, false 
knowledge, that is chiefly terrible to states. They are the 
furious, the ill-taught, the blind, and misguided, that are 
prone to be seized with groundless fears, and unprovoked 
resentments; to be raised fey incendiaries, and to rush 
desperately on to sedition, ana acts of rage. Subjects that 
are most knowing, and best informed, are ever most peace- 
able and loyal ; whereas, the loyalty and obedience of such 
whose understandings extend not beyond names and sounds 



354 LAC ON. 

The greatest and the most amiable privilege 
which the rich enjoy over the poor, is that which 
they exercise the least— the privilege of making 
them happy. 

If you cannot inspire a woman with love of you, 
Jill her above the brim with love of herself; — all 
that runs over will be yours. 

There are many dogs that have never killed 
their own mutton ; but very few who having begun, 

will be always precarious, and can never be thoroughly 
relied upon, whilst any turbulent or artful men can, by din 
and clamour, and the continual application of those sounds, 
intoxicate and inflame them even to madness ; can make 
them believe themselves undone, though nothing can hurt 
them ; think they are oppressed, when they are best pro- 
tected; and can drive them into riots and rebellion, without 
the excuse of one real grievance. It will always be easy 
to raise a mist before eyes that are already dark, and it is a 
true observation, that it is an easy work to govern wise men, 
but to govern fools or madmen, a continual slavery. It is 
from the blind zeal and stupidity cleaving to superstition ; 
it is from the ignorance, rashness and rage, attending fac- 
tion, that so many mad and sanguinary evils have destroyed 
men, dissolved the best governments, and thinned the great- 
est nations. As a people, well instructed, will certainly 
esteem the blessings they enjoy, and study public peace for 
their own sake, there is a great merit in instructing the 
people, and cultivating their understandings. They are 
certainly less credulous, in proportion as they are more 
knowing, and consequently less liable to be the dupes of 
demagogues, and the property of ambition. They are not 
then to be surprised with false cries, nor animated by ima- 
ginary danger. Wherever the understanding is well pi in- 
cipled and informed, the passions will be tame, and the 
heart well disposed. They, therefore, who communicate 
true knowledge to their species, are true friends to the 
world, benefactors to society, and deserve all encourage- 
ment from those who preside over society, with the applause 
and good wishes of ail good and honest men,* 



L A G 0,3. 353 

have stopped. And there are many women who 
have never intrigued, and many men who have 
never gamed; but those who have done either but 
once, are very extraordinary animals, and more 
worthy of a glass case when they die, than half the 
exotics in the British museum. 



When we feel a strong desire to thrust our 
advice upon others, it is usually because we 
suspect their weakness ; but we ought rather to 
suspect our own. 

The young fancy that their follies are mistaken 
by the old, for happiness ; and the old fancy that 
their gravity is mistaken by the young, for wisdom. 
And yet each are wrong in supposing this of the 
other. The misapprehension is mutual, but I shall 
not attempt to set either of them right, because 
their respective error is reciprocally consolatory to 
both. I would not be so severe on the old, as the 
lively Frenchman, who said, that if they were fond 
of giving good advice, it was only because they 
were no longer able to set a bad example ; but for 
their own sake, no less than of others, I would 
recommend cheerfulness to the old, in the room of 
austerity, knowing that Jieaimiess is much more 
often synonymous with ignorance, than gravity 
with wisdom. Cheerfulness ought to be the viati- 
cum vita* of their life to the old : age without 
cheerfulness, is a Lapland winter without a sun ; 
and this spirit of cheerfulness should be encouraged 
m our youth, if we would wish to have the benefit 

* The provision of life.— Tub. 



im LACUN. 

of it in our old age ; time will make a generouj 
wine more mellow, but it will turn that which is 
early on the fret, to vinegar. 

Courage is like the diamond — very brilliant ; not 
changed by fire, capable of high polish, but except 
for the purpose of cutting hard bodies, useless. 
The great Tamerlane had his full share of it, yet 
he said its value was much overrated, because it 
required nothing more than the exercise of forti- 
tude and patience for one short hour. One would 
suppose the Tartar had read Horace, and had his 
description of a battle in view : — 

f Concurritur — horcB 

Momenta cita mors venit, aut victoria lata? * 



In great cities men are more callous both to the 
happiness and the misery of others, than in the 
country ; for they are constantly in the habit of 
seeing both extremes. 



Mystery magnifies danger, as a fog the sun ; the 
hand that warned Belshazzar, derived its horrify- 
ing influence from the want of a body. 

In the East, the women are chosen with reference 
,o their personal charms, rather than their intellec- 
tual, considered as miuisters to sensuality, rather 
than as ornaments of society, and abandoned the 
moment the slighest decay begins to manifest itself 
in those corporeal attractions which first enhanced 
heir value, and ensured their admiration. It would 



They meet — an hour's brief time 



And death has come, or triumph's peal sublime. — Pub 



LACON. 357 

seem that there is a sound physical cause for this 
low and animal mode of appreciating female excel- 
lence, so prevalent in the East, and in calculating 
which, if compared with the northern nations, the 
body has so much more weight in the -scale than 
the mind. The fact is, that under the ripening 
suns of the east, all the charms and beauties of the 
body are developed, long before the less precocious 
mind has put forth even the promise and the blos- 
som of its ultimate but progressive perfection 
But inasmuch as premature adolescence has a 
constant tendency to superinduce premature decre- 
pitude, the charms of the body have ceased to 
flourish, when those of the mind are beginning to 
expand and to bud. Thus the unfortunate pride 
of the harem has ceased to please as the mistress,* 
precisely at the moment when she might begin to 
interest as the friend. For that alliance may be 
said to have a double tie, where the minds are 
united, as well as the body, and the union will have 
all its strength, when both the links are in perfec- 
tion together. But with regard to the state of 
society in the East, as connected with women, the 
evil we are noAV considering, like many others, 
acls in a circle ; for the education of the female 

* Women in warm climates are marriageable, says Mon- 
tesquieu, at eight or nine years of age ; infancy and mar- 
riage, therefore, almost always go together, and women 
become old at twenty. Reason, then, and beauty are in 
them never found together. When beauty wishes to sway, 
reason refuses it ; and when reason might attain it, beauty 
is no more. And Prideaux, in his life of Mahomet, in- 
forms us, that Mahomet was betrothed to his wife Cadhisja, 
at five years old, and took her to his bed at eight ; and that 
in the hoi countries of Arabia and the Indies, girls are 
marriageable at eight years old, and are brought to bed 
the year after. 



35B LACO N 

mind, in those regions of solar light, but of intel 
lectual darkness, is sacrificed even from the cradle 
to the meretricious fascinations of the body : since 
no man is at great pains to cultivate that, which 
he knows beforehand he shall have no relish to 
enjoy. Corporeal charms may indeed gain admi- 
rers, but there must be mental ones to retain them ; 
and Horace had a delicate feeling of this, when he 
refused to restrict the pleasures of the lover merely 
to his eyes, but added also those of the ear : — 

Qui sedens identidem, te 
Spectat et audit?* 



Love is a volcano, the crater of which no wise 
man will approach too nearly, lest from motives far 
less philosophical than those of Empedocles,f he 
should be swallowed up, leaving something behind 
him that will tell more tales than a slipper. 



We often injure our cause by calling in that 
which is weak, to support that which is strong 
Thus the ancient school-mew, who in some instan 

- lVho, ever and anon 



Still as he sits, beholds and listens to thee.. — Pits. 
t Horace, speaking of this philosopher, says : — 



- c ardenlemfrigidus JEtnam, 



* InsiluitH 

The mountain threw out his slipper, which discovered hii 
fate. It is recorded that Aristotle, from motives of the same 
unquenchable curiosity, threw himself into the Euripus: 
the phenomena of the flux and reflux of this river puzzled 
our philosopher so much, that he jumped into the stream, 
exclaiming : ' Since I cannot comprehend the Euripus, the 
Euripus shall comprehend me.' 

i Indifferent, into burning Etna leaped. — Fr». 



L A G O X . 359 

ces were more silly than school-boys, were con- 
stantly lugging in the authority of Aristotle to 
support the tenets of Christianity ; and yet these 
very men would laugh at an engineer of the present 
day, who should make a similar blunder in artillery, 
that they have done in argument, and drag up an 
ancient battering ram to assist a modern cannon. 



There are many things that are thorns to our 
hopes until we have attained them, and envenomed 
arrows to our hearts, when we have. 



The ancients, in their poetical and dramatical 
machinery, made their gods the prime agents of 
as much evil as good. They have described them, 
as mixing themselves up with human infirmities, 
and lending themselves to human passions, in so 
gross a manner, that it is almost impossible to 
admire virtue, and to esteem such gods , or to look 
up to heaven with affection, without looking down 
upon its rulers with abhorrence.* It is on this 

* In confirmation of the above remarks, I shall quote a 
passage from one of the finest writers of the last century : — 

' Be it how it will, the wonderful in poetry has begotten 
lhat of knight-errantry, and certain it is, that the devils and 
conjurers cause much less harm in this way of writing, 
than the gods and their ministers did in the former. 

' The goddess of arts, of knowledge, and wisdom, inspires 
the bravest of all the Greeks with an ungovernable fury, 
and suffers him not to recover his senses she had taken 
from him, but only to make him capable of perceiving hia 
folly, and by this means to kill himself out of mere shame 
and despair. 

1 The greatest and most prudent of the goddesses favours 
scandalous passions, and lends her assistance to carry on a 
criminal amour. 



360 LACON. 

account that I should rather side with Plato, who 
would have interdicted the ancient tragedy to the 
Athenians, than with Aristotle, who with some qual- 

'The same goddess employs ail sorts of artifices to 
destroy a handful of innocent 'people, who by no means 
deserved her indignation. 

1 She thought it not enough to exhaust her own power, 
and that of the other gods, whom she solicited to ruin 
jEneas, but even corrupts the god of sleep to cast Palinu- 
r us into a slumber, and so to order matters, that he might 
drop into the sea; this piece of treachery succeeded, and 
the poor pilot perished in the waves. 

' There is not one of the gods in these poems that does 
not bring the greatest misfortunes^upon men, or hurry 
them on to the blackest actions. Nothing is so villanous 
here below, which is not executed by their order, or au- 
thorized by their example ; and this it was that principally 
contributed to give birth to the sect of the Epicureans, and 
afterwards to support it. 

1 Epicurus, Lucretius, and Petronius, would rather make 
their gods lazy, and enjoy their immortal nature in an un- 
interrupted tranquillity, than see them active and cruelly 
employed in ruining ours. * 

- Nay, Epicurus, by doing so, pretended he showed his 
great respect to the gods ; and from hence proceeded that 
saying which Bacon so much admires, * Non Deos vulgi 
negare profanum, sect vulgi opinioncm diis applicare pro- 
fanum.. * 

1 Now I don't mean* by this, that we are obliged to dis- 
card the gods out of our works, and much less from those 
of poetry, where they seem to enter more naturally than 
any where else. A Jove principium muscc.i I am for in- 
troducing them as much as any man, but then I would 
have them bring their wisdom, justice, and clemency along 
with them, and not appear, as we generally make them, 
like a pack of impostors and assassins. I would have 
them come with a conduct to regulate, and not with a dis- 
order to confound every thing. 

1 Perhaps it may be replied, that these extravagances 

* It is not profanity to deny the gods of the vulgar, but it is profanity 
to measure the gods by the opinions of the vulgar'. — Pub 

t From Jove the muse descends. — Vun 






L A CON, 361 

locations, recommended it. For the writers of the 
Greek tragedy were continually placing their audi- 
ence in situations where, if they exercised their 
pity, it could only be at the expense of their piety, 
and where disgust was a feeling far more liable to 
be excited than devotion. In short, there seems 
to I-e this difference between the superstition of the 
Pagans, and the religion of the Christians ; the 
former lowered a God to a man ; the latter exalts a 
man to a God ! 

On a former occasion I hare observed, that every 
historian has described the age in which he hap- 
pened to write, as the worst because he has only 
heard of the wickedness of ether times, but has 
felt and seen that of his own. I now repeat this 
proposition for the purpose of introducing a very 
shrewd remark I have since chanced upon, which 

ought only to pass for fables and fictions which belong to 
the jurisdiction of poetry. Bui I would fain know what 
art and science in the world has the power to exclude good 
sense '! if we need only write in verse, to be privileged in 
all extravagances, for my part, I would never advise any 
man to meddle with prose, where he must immediately be 
pointed at for a coxcomb, if he leaves good sense and rea- 
son never so little behind him. 

1 I wonder extremely, that the ancient poets were so 
scrupulous to preserve probability in actions purely human, 
and violated it after so abominable a manner, when they 
come to recount the actions of the gods. Even those who 
have spoken of their nature more soberly than the rest, 
could not forbear to speak: extravagantly of their conduct. 

* When they establish their being, and their attributes, 
thev make them immortal, infinite, almighty perfectly wise, 
and perfectly good. But at the very moment they set them 
a working, there is no weakness to which they do not make 
them stoop ; there is no folly or wickedness which they 
du not wake them commit.' 

31 



362 L A C O fv . 

will give rise to a few observations. 'How strange 
it is, (says an old author,) that we, of the present 
day, are constantly praising that past age, which 
our fathers abused, and as constantly abusing that 
present age, which our children will praise-.' This 
assertion is witty, and true ; but if the praise and 
the censure awarded by the parties, were equally 
true, it would follow that the world must have 
become so bad by this time, that no security, and 
of course, no society could be found within it. For 
if every succeeding generation praises the past, 
but abuses the present, and is right in; doing it, how 
very good must men have been in the first ages of 
the world, and how excessively bad must they have 
become now. On the former supposition, <i deluge 
of water would not have been necessary, and on 
the latter, a deluge of fire would hardly eifect a 
cure. But let us pause to inquire who they are, 
that are most commonly the great admirers of the 
: olden time ;' the ' laudatores temper is acti. 1 * They 
are almost invariably to be fouad amongst the 
aged ; and the rising generation, having no expe- 
rience of their own, but trusting to those who 
have — -hear , and believe* But is it not natural, 
that the old should extol the days of their youth ; 
the weak, the era of their strength ; the sick, the 
season of their vigour ; and the disappointed, the 
spring-tide of their hopes ! Alas, it is not the 
times that have changed, but themselves. 



We often regret we did not do otherwise, when 
that very otherwise would in all probability have 
done for us. Life too often presents us with a 

* Flatterers of the olden time. — Pub. 



LACON. 363 

choice of evils, rather than of goods. Like the 
fallen angels of Milton, we all know the evils that 
we have, but we are ignorant what greater evils we 
might have encountered by rushing on apparent 
goods, the consequences of which we know not. 

4 Evertere domus tolas, optantibus ipsis 
' Dii facile s ;'* 

by which even a Pagan moralist suggests that the 
prayers of men are sometimes granted by the gods, 
to the destruction of the supplicants. 



We injure mysteries, which are matters of faith, 
by any attempt at explanation in order to make them 
matters of reason. Could they be explained, they 
would cease to be mysteries ; and it has been well 
said, that a thing is not necessarily against reason, 

because it happens to be above it. Doctor B 1 

once told Home Tooke that he had just witnessed 
an exemplification of the Trinity, for he had seen 
three men in one whiskey ! * Poh, poh !' replied 
our etymologist, * that is no exemplification at all ; 
you should have seen one man in three whiskeys !' 
A certain missionary once asked a new convert, if 
he had any clear notions on this sacred subject , 
his Asiatic proselyte immediately made three folds 
in his garment, and having held them in that state 
a few seconds, pulled them back again into one 
We believe the doctrine of the Trinity, because, 
though above reason, it is matter of faith ; but we 

* For sometimes heaven icill aid the madly blind 
'To full vpon themselves their own destruction. — Pcb. 

t This anecdote is rather against the doctor, for the vnx 
!? Parson Home's, but the proianeness is the doctor's; 
perhnp.i even I shall not wholly escape for relating it. 



364 LACG N . 

are not bound to believe in all the explanations of 
it, which are often against both, and matter of 
neither. The attention of the religious world, in 
the west of England, was lately much occupied 
by a very learned controversy on this subject, car- 
ried on by three doughty champions, each of whom 
with more of erudition, but perhaps less of gentle- 
ness, than the shepherds in Virgil, were * et cantare 
pares, ct respondere parati?* The individuals, 
however, were more at home in knocking down 
each other's arguments, than in establishing their 
own ; which led the sharpsighted editor of a cer- 
tain journal, whose columns our polemics had filled, 
without much profit to the sale, to suppose that it 
was high time for him to interfere, and to sum up, 
with all due impartiality, between the parties :— 

-' Componere lites 



1 Inter Pclidden festinat, et inter Atridcn*\ 

He did so, and though luminous on many othei 
points, * The Western Luminary* was rather oh 
scure upon this : — 

1 Magnis tamen excidit ausis:\ 

To convince him that his three learned correspon 
dents, however they had disagreed in particulars, 
agreed as to the main, and that he himself in sum- 
ming up, had settled the controversy in a manner 
more conclusive than superficial observers might 
admit, or accede to, I sent him the following 

*Each was prepared to sing, or chant in street response. — Peru. 

t ■ To still the b roils 

Of Atrcus 1 and oj Peletis' sons, he kindly toils. — Pie, 
X Yet htvernhes in his nobU undertakings.— Tib. 



L A C O N . 90S 

little 'jm (Tesprit? which he had the candour to 
insert : — 

Cleve — Dennis — Carpenter— agree ! 
And fully prove a Trinity ; 
For in their writings, all may see 
ISbt one incomprehensible— but three I 

Yet Flindell deemed the task undone, 
So finished what these scribes begun, 
And showed, more clearly than the sun, 
Not three incomprehensibles— but one! 

It is in the middle classes of society, that all 
the finest feelings, and the most amiable propensi- 
ties of our nature do principally flourish and 
abound. For the good opinion of our fellow-men 
is the strongest, though not the purest motive to 
virtue. The privations of poverty render us too 
cold and callous, and the privileges of property, 
too arrogant and consequential to feel ; the first, 
places us beneath the influence of opinion — th« 
second, above it. 



Posthumous fame is a plant of tardy growth, for 
our body must be the seed of it ; or we may liken 
it to a torch, which nothing but the last spark of 
life can light up ; or we may compare it to the 
trumpet of the archangel, for it is blown over the 
dead ; but unlike that awful blast, it is of earth, not 
of heaven, and can neither rouse nor raise us. 

We make a goddess of Fortune, (says Juvenal,) 
and place her in the highest heaven. But it is not 
fortune that is exalted and powerful, but we our- 
selves that are abject and w T eak. We strive to 
make externals a part of ourselves, over which for- 
31* 



366 L A G O N . 

tune has power, neglecting that which is within 
over which she has none. The storm may strip the 
mountain of its garniture, and expose its breast to 
the winds — but the mountain remains. Bias flying 
from his country, which was wrapt in flames, and 
reeking with the blood of the vanquished, incum 
bered himself with none of his goods, or rather, 
says his biographer, bore them all in his breast, not 
to be seen by the eye, but prized by the soul, 
enclosed in the narrow dwelling of the mind, not 
to be demolished by mortal hands, fixed with those 
that are settled, not retarding those that travel, and 
not forsaking those that fly. 

The benevolent have the advantage of the envi- 
ous, even in this present life ; for the envious man 
is tormented not only by all the ill that befalls him- 
self, but by all the good that aappens to another ; 
whereas the benevolent man is the better prepared 
to bear his own calamities unruffled, from the com- 
placency and serenity he has secured from contem- 
plating the prosperity of all around him. The sun 
of happiness must be totally eclipsed, before it can 
be total darknessr with him ! But the envious man 
is made gloomy, not only by his own cloud, but by 
another's sunshine. He may exclaim with the 
poet, 'Dark ! dark ! amidst a blaze of light F Des- 
perate by his own calamities, and infuriated also by 
the prosperity of another, he would fain fly to that 
hell that is beyond him, to escape that which is 
within. In short, envy is almost the only vice that 
constantly punishes itself, in the very act of its 
commitment ; and the envious man makes a worse 
bargain, even than the hypocrite, for the hypocrite 
serves the devil, without wages — but the envious 



L A C X #57 

man serves him, not only without reward, but to be 
punished also for his pains. 



The affairs of this world are kept together by 
what little truth and integrity still remain amongst 
us ; and yet I much question whether the absolute 
dominion of turth would be compatible with the 
existence of any society now existing upon the face 
of the earth. Pure truth, like pure gold, has been 
found unfit for circulation, because men have dis- 
covered that it is far more convenient to adulterate 
the truth, than to refine themselves. They will not 
advance their minds to the standard, therefore they 
lower the standard to their minds. But the high 
and sterling excellence of truth would appear from 
hence, that it becomes more safe, practicable, and 
attainable, the nearer we advance to perfection. No 
bad man ever wished that his breast was made of 
glass, or that others could read his thoughts. But 
the misery is, that the duplicities, the temptations, 
and the infirmities that surround us, have rendered 
the truth, and nothing but the truth, as hazardous 
and contraband a commodity as a man can possibly 
deal in. This made Sir Walter Raleigh affirm, that 
it was dangerous to follow truth too near, lest she 
should kick out our teeth. But let us for a moment 
figure to ourselves a state of things where truth 
should be the sole principle of all our thoughts, 
words, and actions. Constituted as men are at 
present, could any civilized society keep itself 
together, under such circumstances, for one single 
year ? Would not eternal truth become as insup- 
portable to our imperfect mind, as eternal day to our 
imperfect vision ? Gracious heaven, what a scene 
would the above supposition produce upon earth ? 



363 LAC ON. 

What recriminations, what eclaircissements, what 
animosities, what exacerbations : what a pulling of 
caps by the one sex, and of triggers by the other ' 
The most polite levees would become an acelda- 
ma, and the most polished routs a bear-garden. 
What mourning brides, and merry widows, what 
rancorous friends, and greeting enemies, what 
accepted sinners, and rejected saints! The whole 
world would appear to have put on a mask, merely 
from having taken one off. How few bargains at 
the exchange, litigations at the bar, or long speeches 
at the Senate. What would become of the numerous 
tribe of schismatics in religion, polemics in contro- 
versy, partisans in politics, and empirics in science ; 
of enthusiasts, who believe what they cannot 
explain, and of impostors, who explain what they 
do not believe 1 As to literature, bulky quartoes 
would dwindle into duodecimoes, and a folio 
would be unknown. Authors would be restricted 
to what was true, and critics would be precluded 
from what was false. No revolution or revulsioi 
would be equal to this that we are considering 
being nothing less than a transition from an ordet 
of society where nothing is what it seems, to ano- 
ther where every thing is what it appears. It is 
manifest that men would be quickly compelled 
either to alter such a state of things, or themselves ; 
but I fear the former measure would be found the 
most convenient. Taking things, not as they ought 
to be, but as they are, I fear it must be allowed that 
Machiavelli will always have more disciples than 
Jesus. Out of the millions who have studied and 
even admired the precepts of the Nazarite, how 
few are there that have reduced them to practice ! 
But there are numbers numberless, who, through- 



L A c o k . ap 

out the whole of their lives, have been practising 
the principles of the Italian without having even 
heard of his name ; who cordially believe with him 
that the tongue was given us to discover the thoughts 
of others, and to conceal our own ; and who range 
themselves either under the standard of Alexander 
the Sixth, who never did what he said, or of his 
son Borgia, who never said what he did. 



What is earthly happiness ? that phantom of 
which we hear so much, and see so little ; whose 
promises are constantly given and constantly broken, 
but as constantly believed ; that cheats us with the 
sound instead of the substance, and with the blos- 
som instead of the fruit. Like Juno, she is a god- 
dess in pursuit but a cloud in possession ; deified 
by those who cannot enjoy her, and despised by 
those who can. Anticipation is her herald, but 
disappointment is her companion ; the first ad- 
dresses itself to our imagination, that would believe, 
but the latter to our experience, that must. Hap- 
piness, that grand mistress of the ceremonies in the 
dance of life, impels us through all its mazes and 
meanderings, but leads none of us by the same 
route. Aristippus pursued her in pleasure, Socrates 
in wisdom, and Epicurus in both ; she received the 
attentions of each, but bestowed her endearments 
on neither; although, like some other gallants, they 
all boasted of more favours than they had received. 
Warned by their failure, the stoic adopted a most 
paradoxical mode of preferring his suit ; he though?, 
by slandering, to woo her ; by shunning to win 
her; and proudly presumed, that by fleeing her, 
she would turn and follow him. She is deceitful 
as the -calm that precedes the hurricane; smooth 



370 h A r; n x . 

as the water on the verge of the cataract ; and 
beautiful as the rainbow, that smiling daughter of 
the storm ; but, like the mirage iri the desert, she 
tantalizes us with a delusion that distance creates, 
and that contiguity destroys. Yet, when unsought, 
she is often found, and when unexpected, often 
obtained ; while those who seek for her the most 
diligently, fail the most, because they seek her 
where she is not. Antony sought her in love ; 
Brutus in glory; Cesar in dominion; the first 
found disgrace, the second disgust, the last ingrati- 
tude, and each destruction. To some she is more 
kind, but not less cruel ; she hands them her cup>. 
and they drink even to stupefaction, until they 
doubt whether they are men with Philip, or dream 
that they are gods with Alexander. On some she 
smiles as on Napoleon, with an aspect more 
bewitching than an Italian sun ; but it is only to 
make her frown the more terrible, and by one short 
caress to imbitter the pangs of separation. Yet is 
she, by universal homage and consent, a queen ; 
and the passions are the vassal lords that crowd 
her court, await her mandate, and move at her con- 
trol. But, like other mighty sovereigns, she is so 
surrounded by her envoys, her officers, and her 
ministers of state, that it is extremely difficult to be 
admitted to her presence-chamber, or to have any 
immediate communication with herself. Ambition, 
avarice, love, revenge, all these seek her, and her 
alone ; alas ! they are neither presented to her, nor 
will she come to them. She despatches, however, 
her envoys unto them— ^xean and poor representa- 
tives of their queen. To ambition she sends power ; 
to avarice, wealth ; to love, jealousy ; to revenge, re» 
morse ; alas ! what arc these but so many other name? 



LAC OX. 371 

for vexation or disappointment. Neither is she to 
be won by flatteries or by bribes ; she is to be gained 
by waging war against her enemies,, much sooner 
than by paying any particular court to herself. Those 
that conquer her adversaries, will find that they 
need not go to her, for she will come unto them. 
None bid so high for her as kings ; few are more 
willing, none more able* to purchase her alliance 
at the fullest price. But she has no more respect for 
kings than for their subjects; she mocks them 
indeed with the empty show of a visit, by sending 
to their palaces all her equipage, her pomp, and 
her train, but she comes not herself. What detains 
her ? She is travelling incognita to keep a private 
assignation with contentmentj and to partake of a 
tete a tete and a dinner of herbs in a cottage. Hear, 
then, mighty queen ! what sovereigns seldom hear, 
the words of soberness and truth. I neither despise 
thee too little, nor desire thee too much ; for thou 
wieldest an earthly sceptre, and thy gifts cannot 
exceed thy dominion. Like other potentates, thou 
also art a creature of circumstance, and an ephe- 
meris of time. Like other potentates, thou also, 
when stript of thy auxiliaries, art no longer com- 
petent even to thine own subsistence ; nay, thou 
canst not even stand by thyself. Unsupported by 
content on the one hand, and by health on the other, 
thou fallest an unwieldy and bloated pageant to the 
ground. 



Death is like thunder* in two particulars ; we are 
alarmed at the sound of it, and it is formidable only 

* It is a doubt whether those that are killed by the light- 
ning, even hear the thunder which follows the stroke ; be 
that as it may the comparison in the text may be still farther 



272 L A C O ft. 

from that which preceded it. The rich man, gasr> 
ing for breath, and reduced to be a mendicant even 
of the common air, tantalized with luxuries that 
must no more be taSted, and means that must no 
longer be enjoyed, feels at last the impotence of 
gold ; that death which he dreaded at a distance as 
an enemy, he now hails, when he is near, as a friend ; 
a friend that alone can bring the peace his treasures 
cannot purchase, and remove the pain his physi- 
cians cannot cure* 



We should take care that we do not carry our 
religious controversies so far as to give the infidel 
the same advantage over us in matters of faith, that 
the ancient Pyrrhonists obtained over other sects, 
in matters of philosophy. For all the sects of 
philosophers agreed in one thing only — that of 
abusing each other. He, therefore, that abused 
them all round, was sure of a majority ; and as no 
sect got any praises except from the disciples of 
their own particular school, such party panegyric 
went for nothing. 



Great minds that have not as yet established a 
name, must sometimes bend to lesser minds that 
have ; or if they cannot bend, must break. If any 
able man were to write an impartial account of those 
defunct literary characters of our own country, 
who have been overrated, and also o( those that 
have been underrated, and enter somewhat philo- 
sophically into the causes, he might produce a very 

illustrated by a fine thought of the philosopher Arcesilaus : 
* Death,' said he, ' of all human evils, is the only one whose 
presence is never troublesome to any one, and which makes 
us uneasy only by its absence.' 



1* A C O H . £;^ 

mteresling volume. He would have all the clergy 
on his side ;* for his labours would at least be 
orthodox, in as- much as it might be said of him : * He 
hath put down the mighty from their seats, and 
exalted the humble and meek.'' Speaking generally, 
no man appears great to his contemporaries, for the 
same reason that no man is great to his servants™ 
both know too much of him. Envy also has her 
share in withholding present fame. If an author 
hath written better than his contemporaries, he will 
be termed a plagiarist ; if as well, a pretender ; if 
worse, a genius of some promise, of whom they do 
not quite despair. 

It is with antiquity as with ancestry, nations aits 
proud of the one, and individuals of the other : but 
H they are nothing in themselves, that which is 
their pride ought, to be their humiliation. If an 
individual is worthy of his ancestors, why extol 
those with whom he is on a level ? and if he is 
unworthy of them, to laud them, is to libel himself 
And nations also, when they boast of their an- 
tiquity,* only tell \*s> in other words, that they are 

*I do not mean to deny the probability that a sfa^e oi 
society, highly cultivated and refined, may have existed in 
various parts of the giobe, previous to any written or au- 
thentic documents that have been transmuted us. India 
is not without monuments of such a state of civiliza: ion, and 
some late discoveries go to establish the same supposition 
even in America. I admit that it is more fair to infer such 
a state of things from monuments that are extant, than to 
assert its non-existence from the want of documents which, 
after all, may have been left, but may also have been lost. 
Setting aside the traditions of the Athenians, concerning 
.heir Musaeus, of the Thebans of their Linus, of the Thra- 
eians as regards their Orpheus, or the Phoenicians of Cad- 
mus, yet still it must be admitted that Thales d'd actually 
33 



m LACOH. 

standing on the ruins of so many generations. 
But if their view of things is limited, and their 
prospect of the sciences narrow and confined, if 
other nations^ who stand upon no such eminence, 
see farther than they do, is not the very antiquity 
of which they boast, a proof that their forefathers 
were not giants in knowledge, or if they were, that 
their children have degenerated 1 The Babylo- 
nians laid claim to an antiquity of four hundred 
and seventy thousand years, founded on a series 
of astronomical observations. But with all their 
knowledge of the heavens, they knew no more of 
things appertaining to the earth, than their neigh 
bours, and they suffered their glory to be eclipsed 
by a little horde of Macedonians. The Chinese 
of the present day are not behindhand with the 
Babylonians in looking backwards, but with most 

discover a state of society in the East, which would have 
justified him on his return from travelling, in applying the 
same degrading title to the Greeks themselves, which they 
afterwards bestowed upon others. The magnificent ruins 
of ancient cities, of which no record remains, the pyramids, 
concerning which the remotest antiquity has nothing te 
depose, the advanced state of the science of geometry and 
astronomy amongst the Egyptians and the Babylonians, do 
warrant us of aftertimes, in the presumption that a high state 
of cultivation and knowledge did exist anterior to any 
written documents, or historical records; but after all, both 
individuals and nations, when they vaunt themselves on 
what they were, must do it at the hazard of provoking inqui- 
ry as to what they arc. But it ought to suppress the arro- 
gance of national talent to reflect, that destruction may have 
caused many things to be discoveries, which without it, to 
us at least, had been none; and a pride founded only on 
antiquity, may also be rebuked, in a nation that suffers 
more modern ones to outstrip it, on the principle that they 
have made so bad a use of so long an experience, and have 
profited so little, in having neither been taught by tha 
wisdom, nor warned by the folly of their forefathers. 



L A C O Vt. 375 

other nations in looking forwards. They unite all 
the presumption, with all the prejudice of ignorance. 
As a nation, notwithstanding their longevity, they 
have not yet arrived at manhood, and when tney 
boast of their antiquity, they only boast of a more 
protracted period of childhood and imbecility. 



* Hope, thy weak being ended is, 
Alike, if thou obtain, or if thou miss. 
Thee, good or ill, doth equally confound, 
And both the horns of fate's dilemma wound, 
The joys which we should as pure virgins wed, 
Thou bring'st deflower'd to the nuptial bed.' 

These lines prove that the spirit of poetry cannot 
be tamed, even by a marriage with such a shrew as 
metaphysics ; and that the hand of Apollo can draw 
forth harmony even from the discordant croaking 
of the schools. I have elsewhere observed, that 
sleep, that type of death, is restricted to earth, that 
it avoids hell, and is excluded heaven. This idea 
might also be applied to hope, whose habitation is 
manifestly terrestrial, and whose very existence 
must, I conceive, be lost, in the overwhelming 
realities of futurity. Neither can futurity have any 
room for fear, the opposite of hope ; for fear antici- 
pates suffering, and hope enjoyment ; but where 
both are final, fixed, and full, what place remains, 
either for hope, or for fear ? Fear, therefore, and 
hope, are of the earth, earthy, the pale and trerr 
bling daughters of mortality ; for in heaven we 
can fear no change ; and in hell, no change is to 
be feared. 



No porter ever injured himself by an attempt to 
carry six hundred weight, who could not previously 



376 LACON. 

carry five, with/rut injury; and what obtains with 
strength of body, obtains also with strength of 
mind; when we attempt to be wise, beyond what 
is given to man, our very strength becomes our 
weakness. No man of pigmy stature, or of puny 
mould, will ever meet the fate of Milo, who was 
wedged to death in an attempt to split an oak ; 
and no man ever finished by being an accomplished 
fool, so well as Des Cartes, because he began by 
being a philosopher ; for a racer, if he runs out of 
the course, will carry us much farther from it than 
a cart-horse. Ignorance is a much more quiet, 
manageable, and contented thing, than half know- 
ledge. A ploughman was asked, on his cross- 
examination, whether he could read Greek ; this 
appeared to be a problem he had never taken the 
trouble to solve : therefore, with an much naivete as 
truth, he replied, that he did not know — because 
he had never tried, 



He that sets out on the journey of life with a 
profound knowledge of books, but a shallow know- 
ledge of men, with much sense of others, but little 
of his own, will find himself as completely at a loss 
on occasions of common and of constant recur- 
rence, as a Dutchman without his pipe, a French- 
man without his mistress, an Italian without his 
fiddle, or an Englishman without his umbrella. 

If Diogenes used a lantern, in broad day, solely 
and simply for the purpose of discovering an honest 
man, this proceeding was not consistent with his 
usual sagacity. A lantern would have been a 
jaore appropriate appendage, if he had been iw 



LACON. 377 

search of a rogue ; for such characters skulk about 
in holes and corners, and hate the light, because 
their deeds are evil. But I suspect this philoso- 
pher's real motive for using a lantern in mid-day, 
was tc provoke inquiry, that he might have the 
cynical satisfaction of telling all that asked him 
what he was searching for, that none of them at 
least were the men to his mind, and that his search 
had hitherto been fruitless. It is with honesty in 
one particular,^ with wealth, those that have the 
thing, care less about the credit of it than those 
who have it not. No poor man can well afford to 
be thought so, and the less of honesty a finished 
rogue possesses, the less he can afford to be sup- 
posed to want it. Duke Chartres used to boast 
hat no man could have less real value for character 
han himself, yet he would gladly give twenty 
thousand pounds for a good one, because he could 
immediately make double that sum, by means of 
it. I once heard a gentleman make a very witty 
reply to one who asserted that he did not believe 
there was a truly honest man in the whole world : 
1 Sir,' said he, * it is quite impossible that any one 
man should know all the world ; but it is very pos- 
sible that some one man — may know himself. 

No disorders have employed so many quacks 
as those that have no cure ; and no sciences have 
exercised so many quills, as those that have no 
certainty. Truth lies in a small compass ; and if 
a well has been assigned her for a habitation, it is 
as appropriate from its narrowness, as its depth. 
Hence it happens that those sciences that are 
capable of being demonstrated, or that are redu- 
cible to the severity of calculation, are never 



373 LACO X. 

voluminous ; for clearness is intimately connected 
with conciseness, as the lightning which is the 
brightest thing, is almost the most brief ; but pre- 
cisely in proportion as certainty vanishes, verbosity 
abounds. To foretell an eclipse, a man must 
understand astronomy ; or to find out an unknown 
quantity, by a known one, he must have a know- 
ledge of calculation ; and yet the rudiments that 
enable us to effect these important things, are to 
be found in a very narrow compass. When I sur- 
vey the ponderous and voluminous folios of the 
schoolmen and the mataphysicians, I am inclined 
to ask a very simple question : What have either of 
these plodders done, that has net been better done by 
those that xoere neither ? 

Were a man to deny himself the pleasuie of 
walking, because he is restricted from the privi- 
lege of Hying, and refuse his dinner, because it was 
not ushered in on a service of plate, should we not 
be more inclined to ridicule, than to pity him 1 and 
yet we are all of us more or less guilty of similar 
absurdities, the moment we deny ourselves plea- 
sures that are present, and within our reach, either 
from a vain repining after those that must never 
return, or from as vain an aspiring after those that 
may never arrive. 

Nobility of birth does not always ensure a cor- 
responding nobility of mind ; if it did, it would 
always act as a stimulus to noble actions ; but it 
sometimes acts as a clog, rather than a spur. For 
the favour and consideration of our fellow-men are 
perhaps the strongest incentive to intellectual exer- 
tion j but rank and title, unfortunately for the 



L A C O X . 37a 

assessors of them, ensure that favour and conside- 
ration, even without exertion, that others hardly 

can obtain by means of it. Therefore, men hi^h. 
in rank are sometimes low in acquirement, not so 
much from want of ability, as from want of appli- 
cation ; for it is the nature of man, not to expend 
labour on those tilings that he can have without it, 
nor to sink a well, if he happen to be born upon 
th j banks of a river. But we might as well expect 
the elastic muscularity of a gladiator, without 
training, as the vigorous intellect of a Newton, 
without toil. 



Unity of opinion, abstractedly considered, is 
neither desirable nor a good ; although considered 
not in itself, but with reference to something else, 
it may be both. For men may be all agreed in 
error, and in that case unanimity is an evil. Truth 
lies within the holy of holies, in the temple of 
knowledge, but doubt is the vestibule that leads 
unto it. Luther began by having hi3 doubts, as to the 
assumed infallibility of the Pope, and he finished by 
making himself the corner stone of the reformation. 
Copernicus, and Newton doubted the truth of the 
false systems of others, before they established a 
true one of their own ; Columbus differed in opin- 
ion with all the old world, before he discovered a 
"new one ; and Gaiileo : s terrestrial body was con- 
fined in a dungeon, for having asserted the motion of 
those bodies that were celestial. In fact, we owe 
almost all our knowledge, not to those who nave 
agreed, but to those who have differed ; and those 
who have finished by making all others think with 
them, have usually been those who began by daring 
to think with themselves j as he that leads a crowd 



WO LACUIV. 

must begin by separating himself some little dis- 
tance from it. If the great Harvey, who discovered 
the circulation of the blood, had not differed from 
all the physicians of his own clay, all the physicians 
of the present day would not have agreed with 
him. These reflections ought to teach us that every 
kind of persecution for opinions is incompatible 
with sound philosophy. It is lamentable, indeed, 
to think how much misery has been incurred from 
the intemperate zeal and bigoted officiousness of 
those who would rather that mankind should not 
think at all, than not to think as they do. Charles the 
fifth, when he abdicated a throne, and retired to the 
monastery of St. Juste, amused himself with the 
mechanical arts, and particularly with that of a 
watchmaker ; he one day exclaimed : ' What an 
egregious fool must I have been to have squan- 
dered so much blood and treasure in an absurd 
attempt to make all men think alike, when I cannol 
even make a few watches keep time together. 
We should remember also, that assent, or dissent, 
is not an act of the will, but of the understanding ; 
no man can will to believe that two and two make 
five, nor can I force upon myself the conviction, 
that this ink is white, or this paper black. If we 
arrive at certain conclusions, and act conscientiously 
upon them, a judge that is both just and merciful, 
will require no more, provided we can answer satis- 
factorily to the following interrogations : Have we 
made use of all the means in our power to arrive 
at true conclusions? Did no interest warp us? 
no prejudice blind us ? no party mislead us ? no 
sloth retard us ? and no fear intimidate us ? No 
hierarchy, constituted authority, nor political estab 
lishment, either of ancient, or modern times, has 



L A C X . 381 

made so horrible a use of the mistake u uotion that 
unanimity is a good in itself] as the church of 
Rome. They have appropriated lire term Catholic 
to their own pale, and branded with the name of 
heretic, all that are without it ; and the latter title 
lias made even the merciful deem it a crime to 
pity them, and the just, injustice to do them 
right ; so closely allied in common minds are 
names to things. Unity* of opinion is indeed a 

* Their pretence of unity captivates multitudes. They 
upbraid the protectant with divisions, faction and schism ; 
which they wholly impute to their departure from the 
church of Rome, the pillar and ground of truth, and from 
their pope, the head and centre of unity. Bat suppose their 
union was greater than it is, it can be no certain argument 
of the truth of the church, and excellency of their profession. 
1 If all men,' says Mr. Chillingworth, ' would submit them- 
selves to the chief mufti of the Turks, there would be no 
division ; yet unity is not to be purchased at so dear a rate.' 
He adds: "' It is better to go to heaven by diverse ways, or 
rather by diverse paths of the same way, than in one and 
the same path to go peaceably to hell. Should all the rest 
of the angels have joined with the arch-rebel in the grand 
apostacy, their unity would have been no commendation of 
their cause.' 

But after all, this is but a pretence. Their divisions have 
been as great and as scandalous, as of any other body of 
Christians in the world. Bellarmine confesses twenty-six 
several schisms in their church : Onuphrious reckons up 
thirty, one of which lasted, with great animosities, for 
fifty years. It was begun upon the election of Urban 
VI. ; at which the cardinals being offended, withdrew, 
and chose another pope. viz. Clement VII., who sat in 
France, as Uiban and his successors did at Rome. W« 
have a full account of these matters in Dr. Slillingfleet and 
fit. Geddes. ' The historians of this time,' says Dr. Still- 
ingileet, ' tell us there was never known so dismal an age 
for wars and bloodshed, for murders and parricides, ra- 
pines and sacrilege, for seditions and conspiracies, for hor- 
rible schisms and scandals to religion. The priest op- 
posing tifc bMiops, the people the" priests \ ami in sf*ne 



382 L A C O HI i 

glorious and a desirable thing, and its circle cannot 
be too strong and extended, if the centre be truth ; 
but if the centre be error, the greater the circuni- 

places not only robbing the churches, burning the tithes, 
but trampling under foot the holy eucharist, that was con- 
secrated by such, whom Pope Hildebrand had excommu- 
nicated.' The bishop adds : 'And must we, after ail this, 
believe that the Roman See is the fountain of unity in the 
Catholic church I that all wars and rebellions arise by cast- 
ing oil subjection to the popes, when they themselves have 
been the great fomenters of rebellion, and the disturbers of 
the peace of Christendom.' 

It is an admirable fetch of their policy, and which very 
much contributes to secure and enlarge their interest, the 
suiting religion to the various humours and inclinations ot 
men. ' The great wisdom of the court of Rome,' says Dr. 
Stiliingflcet, ' appears in this, that as long as persons are 
true to them in the main points, they can let them alone in 
smaller differences among themselves ; and not provoke 
either of the dissenting parties lest they give them occasion 
to withdraw from their communion. They can allow dif- 
ferent rites and ceremonies in the several orders of religion 
among them, and grant exemptions and privileges in par- 
ticular cases ; if they can but hold them fast, and render 
them serviceable to their common interest, it is enough.' 

They make very different representations of religion, as 
the case may require ; and, indeed, have provided wonder- 
fully for the entertainment of all sorts of persons. What 
the Jewish rabbins say of their manna, that it had every 
kind of taste, either of oil, or honey, or bread, as would be 
most grateful to several palates: such a manna is popery, 
only it does not come from heaven. If you be for pomp 
and glory, their worship cannot miss of giving full satis- 
faction. Their altars are adorned with costly paintings ; 
hung with images of extraordinary saints; enriched with 
gold and pearl, and whatever can charm the spectator's 
eye : their priests officiate in costly habits ; their churches 
resound with the choicest music, vocal and instrumental; 
and their public processions carry an air of magnificence, 
every way proper to amuse the minds of superstitious pea? 
pie. If, on the other hand, you are for severity, they can 
accommodate you ; they know how exactly to fall in with 
that humour. You will hear amongst them many notable 



LACON. SS3 

ferenee, the greater the evil, and the strength of 
the parts serves only to give it an energy to be 
execrated, and a durability to bo deplored. 

harangues in commendation of voluntary poverty, vows of 
abstinence, penance, and mortification, by going barefoot, 
fasting, wearing sackcloth, and exercising the sharpest 
discipline towards the body. Glorious is the character of 
their St. Francis, whom the}'' make the highest saint in 
heaven-, because he made himself the poorest and vilest 
wretch on earth. If you are for strict morals, they have 
casuists for your purpose, that will talk seraphically, and 
carry things to an excessive height. If you are for greater 
liberties in practice, they can turn you to such as will con- 
descend as much as you can desire, that will promise you 
salvation, though you have no other grace or qualification 
but that uf subjection and obedience to the church. And it 
is by this and the like stratagems, that such multitudes are 
drawn into their net. This is one of the sorceries of the 
whore, by which so many nations are deceived. 

It is a very great inducement to popery, and a special 
means of propagating it in the world, that they have con- 
trived so easy a way of salvation. You may go to heaven 
if you live and die in the church of Rome, without either 
repentance towards God, or faith towards our Lord Jesus 
Christ ; you need be at no pains to mortify your lusts and 
corruptions, to purify your heart, and govern your lives 
according to the laws of the gospel ; what they call attri- 
tion, (and what that is you have been told,) with the sacra- 
ment of penance, and the absolution of a priest is sufficient. 
And you know how well they provide for the safety of any 
sort of cattle by holy fraternities. No less a man than their 
Gregory IX. says, that St. Francis obtained this privilege 
of God, that whoever had his habit on, could not die ill. — 
And St. Francis says himself, that whoever loved his order 
in his heart j how great a sinner soever he was, he should 
obtain mercy of God. And in the like strain they talk (as 
you have heard) of other of their saints, and the societies 
called after their name. To enter among them, and wear 
their badge is a sufficient warrant for heaven, whether he 
be a saint, or the worst of sinners that has it. 

I must not omit the great delusion of all, and that is. their 
tales of visions, apparitions, and miracles. If they find the 
people boggle a little at any of their opinions,. and not so 



3g4 LA COS. 

Criticism is like champaign, nothing mote exe- 
crable if bad. nothing more excellent if good ; if 
meager, muddy, vapid, and sour, both are fit only 
to engender colic and wind ; but if rich, generous, 
and sparkling, they communicate a genial glow to 
the spirits, improve the taste, expand the heart, and 
are worthy of being introduced at the symposium 
of the gods. In the whole range of literature, 
nothing is more entertaining, and I might, add, 
more instruct! ve, than sound and legitimate criti- 
cism, the disinterested convictions of a man of 
sensibility, who enters rather into the spirit, than 

readily swallow them down as they could wish, presently 
heaven engages in the cause ! Thus the immaculate con- 
ception was established by a revelation ; as was purgatory, 
tran substantiation, auricular confession, &c. And by this 
means also, the reputation of their several orders has been 
raised; the credit of their images kept up; and image- wor- 
ship introduced and supported. 

For the same purpose, they have recourse to miracles.— 
The legends of their saints abound with stories of prodi- 
gious things: some of which are ludicrous; as their St. 
Swithin's making whole a basket full of eggs, by the sign 
of the cross ; Patricius making the stolen sheep bleat in the 
thief ; s belly after he had eaten it ; their St. Bridget's bacon, 
which in great charity she gave to a hungry dog, and was, 
after the dog had eaten it, restored again in her kettle. Of 
the like nature is their story of St. Dunstan, who took the 
devil by the nose with his tongs, till he made him roar; 
Dominicus made him hold the candle till he burnt his fin- 
gers ; Lapus imprisoned the devil in a pot all night ; a con- 
secrated host being put into a hive of bees, to cure them of 
the murrain, was so devoutly entertained, that the bees 
built a chapel in the hive, with steeple and bells ; erected 
an altar, and laid the host upon it, and sung their canoni- 
cal hours like monks in a cloister.* — Vid. Bennet against 
Popery. 

* I suspect an error here— the bees built the chape!, but the drones 
performed mass. 



LAC OX. ; 3cfS 

the letter of his author, who can follow him to the 
height of his compass, and while he sympathizes 

with every brilliant power, and genuine passion of 
the poet, is not so far carried out of himself as to 
indulge his admiration at the expense of his judg- 
ment, but who can afford us the double pleasure 
of being iirst pleased with his author, and secondly 
with himself, for having given us such just and 
incontrovertible reasons for our approbation. When 
death deprived the house of commons of the talents 
of Charles Fox, I conceive he did not leave behind 
him a more elegant classic in all that enlightened 
body. I once heard him say, that he was so idle 
at Eton, that he verily believed he should have 
made but little comparative progress in the Greek 
language, had it not been for the intense pleasure 
he received on his first taking up Longinus. ' It 
was lucky for me,' he would say, * that I did not then 
know where to procure an English translation, and 
I never quitted him until I could read him with 
such facility as to derive more pleasure from his 
remarks upon Homer, than from the poet himself.' 
On mentioning this circumstance to an old Etonian, 
he confirmed it by the following anecdote : he said 
that on one occasion, by a wilful kind of mistake, 
Fox took his favourite Longinus, a book above his 
class, into the school-room, and it happened rather 
unluckily, that he was called upon to go through a 
portion of some other author appropriated to that 
day; he was not a little puzzled, and the master 
perceived his embarrassment — ' What book have 
you got there, sir V said he ; ' hand it to me.' On 
perceiving that it was a Greek copy of Longinus, 
4 Sir,' said the master, ' I shall punish you severely 
for having neglected to bring the right book, unless 
33 



3S6 LAC ON. 

you can immediately construe and pars* nis page 
Hi the author you have thought proper ,o choose 
for yourself, 5 picking out at the same time one of 
the most difficult passages in the volume. The 
man was never less at loss in answering Pitt, 
than was the boy on this occasion, in accepting the 
challenge of the master, to the astonishment of 
whom, no less than of his school-fellows, he accom* 
plished off-hand the task imposed upon him, ren- 
dering the passage into English, not at all unworthy 
of the eloquence of the original, ' Who was himself 
the great sublime he drew.' But, to revert to the 
subject, criticism written in the style of Longinus, 
must ever be extremely rare, until great genius be 
extremely common. There is indeed another kind 
of criticism, which will never be rare, because it 
requires only labour and attention ; I mean that 
which is principally confined to dates, facts, chro- 
nologies, niceties of grammar, and quantities of 
prosody ; a criticism conversant with words, rather 
than things, and with the letter, rather than the 
spirit. A style of criticism, like that of him who, 
when all the world were enraptured by a Ceres of 
Raphael, discovered that the knot in the wheat- 
sheaf was not tied as a reaper would have tied it. 
To be a mere verbal critic, is what no man of 
genius would be, if he could ; but to be a critic of 
true taste and feeling, is what no man without 
genius could be, if he would. Could Johnson have 
had less prejudice, Addison more profundity, or 
Dryden more time, they would have been well 
qualified for the arduous office of a critic. Mate- 
rials for a good critic, might be found in the three, 
since each had many of the requisites, but neither 
of tWai all. As to the three great names of 



L A C O IS . 387 

Bentley, Porson, and Parr, they came nearer to 
our purpose, but hare not fully accomplished all 
that we want Bentley united two things that 
were very incompatible, dogmatism and whim, and 
was at the same time both conjectural and dicta- 
torial ; he often substituted creation for correction, 
invented where he ought rather to have investi- 
gated, and gave us what he conceived his author 
should have said, rather than what he did say. 
Porson was too cold and costive in his approbation, 
and too microscopical in his views, for the perfect 
critic, being more occupied about the syllables, 
than the sense, with the counters of knowledge, 
rather than knowledge itself. His temper, too, 
was not sufficiently placid for his mission, whicli 
required more patience than that of Job, and 
more meekness than that of Moses. He was too 
apt not only to quit the game, but to do so in order 
to worry some mongrels of his own pack, who 
were at fault from having overrun the scent. He 
took his Greek, as some persons take their snuff, 
that is, he not only stuffed his head with it almost 
to suffocation, but his pockets as. well,* and not 

* Porson was once travelling in a stage-coach, when a 
young Oxonian, fresh from college, was amusing the ladies 
with a variety of talk, and, amongst other things, with a 
quotation, as he said, from Sophocles. A Greek quota- 
tion, and in a coach too ! roused our slumbering professor 
from a kind of dog-sleep, in a snug corner of the vehicle ; 
— shaking his ears and rubbing his eyes, ' I think, young 
gentleman,' said he, 'you favoured us just now with a 
quotation from Sophocles ; I do not happen to recollect it 
there.' ( Oh, sir,' replied our tyro, ■ the quotation is word 
for word as I have repeated it, and in Sophocles, too: but 
I suspect, sir, it is some time since you were at college, J 
The professor, applying his hand to his greatcoat, and 
taking out a small pockefedition of Sophocles, quietly asked 



388 LA CON. 

without occasionally bespattering his neighbours 
with the superfluity. As to Doctor Parr, ibrtu- 

him if he would be kind enough to show him the passage 
in question, in that little book. After rummaging the pages 
for some time, he replied : ' Upon second thoughts, I now 
recollect that the passage is in Euripides.' * Then perhaps, 
sir,' said the professor, putting his hand into his pocket, and 
handing him a similar edition of Euripides, ' you will be 
so good as to find it for me. in that little book.' The young 
Oxonian returned again to his task, but with no better suc- 
cess, muttering, however, to himself, ' Curse me if ever 1 
quote Greek again in a coach* The tittering of the Indies 
informed him that he was got into a hobble. At last, ' Bless 
me, sir,' ^aid he, ' how dull I am ; I -recollect now, yes, 
yes, I perfectly remember that the passage is in JEschylus.' 
v rhe inexorable professor returned again to his inexhaust- 
ible pocket, and was m the act of handing him an iEsehy- 
lus, when our astonished freshman vociferated : ' Stop the 
coach — halloa, coachman, let me out, I say, instantly — let 
me out ! there's a fellow here has got the whole Bodleian 
library in his pocket ; let me out, I say — let me out ; he 
must be Porson or the devil !' 

I wish to make some observations on anecdotes, and I 
think I may as well take this opportunity as another. Im- 
primis, I am not so particular about their originality, as 
their application. If an anecdote comes across my mind, 
which tends to the support of any argument or proposition 
I am advancing, I hesitate not to adduce it. There are 
no anecdotes in these pages that will be new to all my read- 
ers, and perhaps there are none but maybe new to some 
of them. — Those to whom any anecdote is old, will not be 
offended, if it be well applied ; and those to whom it may 
be new, will receive the double pleasure 6f novelty and of 
illustration. — In fact,there are only two modes by which an 
anecdote can be perfectly original ; the parties who relate 
it, must either have heard it from, or made it for the prin- 
cipals. Anecdotes, like the air, are private property only 
so long as they are kept in ; the instant the one is told, or 
the other liberated, they are common stock. But the pnn 
cipal reason that has induced me to intersperse these pages 
with anecdotes, is to tempt young minds to a higher and 
more intellectual kind of reading. If they read a book on 
such subjects as mine, they must think, at least, before they 



LAC Olf. 389 

nately for the interests of literature, he is still alive, 
and may, if he please, remove the principal objec- 

differ with the author, and this is one of the most exalted, 
noble, yet rare employments of man. But a volume that 
compels a reader to think, will not be his favourite at first, 
although it is sure to become so in he end. It is on this 
account I have occasionally attempted to lead on young 
minds by anecdotes; they will, in all probability, be new 
to them, and I have endeavoured so to write them, that he 
that runs may read, and he that reads may understand. 
There are two classes of people that profit little by read- 
ing, those that are very wise, and those that are very fool- 
ish : 1 cannot presume to inform the one, and I cannot hope 
to improve the other. I have, therefore, attempted to make 
Lacon an intelligible book, capable of doing some good to 
that valuable class of the community who have other things 
to do, as well as to read, and who, when they snatch a few 
hours from their occupations, to devote to literary pursuits, 
must necessarily prefer that author who gives them the 
most knowledge, and takes from them the least time. An 
era is fast approaching, when no writer will be read by the 
great majority, save and except those who can effect that 
for bales of manuscript, that the hydrostatic screw per- 
forms for bales of cotton, by condensing that matter into a 
period that before occupied a page ; celebrity will be 
awarded to no pen that cannot imitate the pugilist, in three 
essentials— that of hitting hard, and sharp, and at short 
distances. 

Let a man of common sense, having read an author with 
some attention, lay down the book, and then ask himself 
this question : What has this writer told me that is really 
new — true, clear, and convincing, and which I did not 
*"know before 1 He will generally find that he may put all 
this down in a very small compass, and that the task may 
be performed, even by the most busy, without the help of 
an amanuensis. Literary characters, indeed, who are con- 
stantly on the hunt for interesting anecdotes, will no doubt 
recognise many of mine as old acquaintances ; but such 
characters are not numerous ; and I see no reason why 
thnt which amuses, and also instructs, should be monopo- 
lized by any class, and particularly by a small one; as 
Whiteneld, when he set divine psalms to airs that were 
profane, did so, because he could not see why the devil 
43* 



'3$q LACON. 

tion that can justly be brought against his pen, by 
using it more often ; the quality is so good, we 
more deeply regret the smallness of the quantity, * 
' verbum sapicnti sat, 9 

should have ail the best tunes, so neither can I conceive 
why ail the best stories should be confined to the literati^ 
who, by the by, are not a whit better able to enjoy them than 
the unlearned' since their common sense is often deficient, 
precisely in proportion to their possession of that which is 
not so ; in which case we might apply the repartee of Des 
Cartes, to a certain marquis who had animadverted raiher 
liberally on the philosopher's indulging himself in the lux- 
uries of the table:—' What , sir , do you think Providence 
made good things only for j'ogIsT 

To finish this gossiping and rambling note, tedious to my 
readers, and particularly tiresome to him that writes it, be- 
cause it is on himself, I shall merely add one more obser- 
vation. In such a variety of remarks, and multiplicity of 
propositions, which a work of the nature of Lacon must 
necessarily involve, repetition will be a rock which it will 
be somewhat difficult wholly to avoid. On a comparison, 
however, of passages apparently similar, the candid reader 
will, I think, perceive a difference, 

< facie s non omnibus una, 

Nee diver sa tamen, quaieni deceiesse serorumS* 

If, like modern physicians, I sometimes vary my pre- 
scriptions, it is for the same reason that they do : — ' to give 
the disorder an opportunity of choosing for itself. i 

But to return to Person. In the notes of Hypocrisy, I 
have mentioned a curious fact, with respect to this learned 
professor. After death, his head was dissected, and to the 
confusion of all craniologists, but to the consolation of all 
blockheads, it was discovered that he had the thickest scull 
of any professor in Europe. Professor Gall, on being called 
upon to explain this phenomenon, and to reconcile so tena- 
cious a memory with so thick a receptacle for it, is said 
to have replied : * How the ideas got into such a scull, is 
their business, not mine ; I have nothing to do with that : 
but let them once get in — that is all I want ; once in, I del) 
them ever to get out again.' 

-Not the game f*c% tliey wear, 



hV>r trait* unlike, but such aa siatere #iwre.— IVb 



LACON. 391 

Gibbon, sitting in an elegant apartment, quaffing 
noyeau, and talking infidelity, was cautioned as to 
the danger which such doctrines might bring upon 
society. ' Sir,' said the historian, ' the doctrines 
we are now discussing, are not unlike the liquor 
we are drinking; — safe, pleasant, and exhilarating 
to you and me, that know how to use, without 
abusing them ; but dangerous, deleterious, and 
intoxicating, if either were broached in the open 
streets, and exposed to the discretion of the mob I 1 
With two such strong reasons against their con- 
tinuing upright members of society, I think we 
might agree with Gibbon, that it would be hazard- 
ous to answer either for their heads or their hearts. 
But our philosophical historian was no philosopher 
here ; the bars and the bolts that were efficient in 
confining his dram3, w r ere perfectly nugatory in 
restricting his doctrines ; they were too volatile for 
such an imprisonment. In fact, it will be possible 
to have one set of opinions for the high, and 
another for the low, only when they cease to see 
by the same sun, to respire by the same air, and 
to feel by the same sensorinm. For opinions, like 
showers, are generated in high places, but they 
invariably descend into lower ones, and ultimately 
flow down to the people, as the rain unto the sea. 

An author of talent and genius must not hope 
that the plodding manufacturers of dullness will 
admire him ; it is expecting too much ; they cannot 
admire him, without first despising themselves. 
When I look out of my window, and see what a 
motley mob it is, high and low, mounted and pedes- 
trian, that an author is ambitious to please, I am 
ashamed of myself, for feeling the slightest anxiety 



339 LA CON. 

as to the verdict of such a tribunal. When I leave 
this class of judges, for that which aspires to be 
more intellectual, I then indeed feel somewhat more 
ground for anxiety, but less for hope : for in this 
court I find that my judges have their claims and 
pretensions no less than myself; pretensions that 
are neither so low as to be despised, nor so high 
as to be above all danger of suffering by competi- 
tion. So small indeed is the fountain of fame, and 
so numerous the applicants, that it is often ren- 
dered turbid by the struggles of those very claim- 
ants who have the least chance of partaking of the 
stream, but whose thirst is not at all diminished by 
any sense of their unworthiness. 



The power of love consists mainly in the privilege 
that potentate possesses of coining, circulating, and 
making current those falsehoods between man and 
woman, that would not pass for one moment, either 
between woman and woman, or man and man. 



Men, by associating in large masses, as in camps 
and in cities, improve their talents, but impair 
their virtues, and strengthen their minds, but 
weaken their morals ; thus a retrocession in the 
one, is too often the price they pay for a refinement 
in the other. 



We are more inclined to hate one another for 
points on which we differ, than to love one another 
for points on which we agree. The reason per- 
haps is this: when we find others that agree with 
us, we seldom trouble ourselves to confirm that 
agreement ; but when we chance on those that 
differ with us, we are zealous both to convince, and 



LAC ON. 303- 

to convert them. Our pride is hurt by the failure, 
and disappointed pride engenders hatred. This 
reflection is strengthened by two circumstances 
observable in man ; first, that the most zealous 
converters are always the most rancorous, when 
they fail of producing conviction ; but when they 
succeed, they love their new disciples far better 
than those whose establishment in the faith neither 
excited their zeal to the combat, nor rewarded their 
prowess with a victory. Priestley owed much of 
the virulence with which he was attacked, to the 
circumstance of his agreeing partly with every 
body, but entirely with nobody. In politics, as in 
philosophy ; in literature, as in religion ; below the 
surface in hydrostatics, or above it in pneumatics ; 
his track might still be traced by the host of assail- 
ants that pursued it ; and, like the flying-fish, he 
had no sooner escaped one enemy in the water, 
than he had to encounter another in the air. 

Who are the least proper to hold this, or to have 
that ; to preside here, or advise there ; to be absent 
from this place, or present at that ? Generally 
speaking, those are the least proper to obtain these 
ends, who most desire them. Who desires to hold 
preferment more than the professing pluralist, or to 
have place, more than the pretended patriot ; and 
who deserves them less 1 Who wishes to preside 
at the senate more than the sycophant, or to advise 
at the council more than the knave 1 Who wishes 
to be absent from the trial more than the criminal, 
or to be present at the plunder more than the thief ? 
For that wealth, power, or influence, which are 
desired only that, they may be properly applied and 
exerted, are not usually those which are most vehe- 



204 LAC ON. 

mently desired ; since such an application of them 
cannot be a profitable task, but must be a trouble- 
some, and may be a thankless one. Therefore, 
when we see a man denying himself the common 
comforts of life, passing restless days and sleep- 
less nights, in order to compass something where 
the public good is the apparent motive, we may 
always venture to pause a little, just to consider 
whether private good may not be the real end. 

None know the full extent of present hate but 
those who have achieved that which will ensure 
the highest meed of future admiration. 



If a man be sincerely wedded to truth, he must 
make up his mind to find her a portionless virgin, 
and he must take her for herself alone. The con- 
tract, too, must be to love, cherish, and obey her, not 
only until death, but beyond it : for this is a union 
that must survive not only death, but time, the 
conqueror of death. The adorer of truth, there- 
fore, is above all present things — firm in the midst 
of temptation, and frank in the midst of treachery ; 
he will be attacked by those who have prejudices, 
simply because he is without them ; decried as a 
bad bargain by all who want to purchase, because 
he alone is not to be bought ; and abused by all par- 
ties, because he is the advocate of none ; like the 
dolphin, which is always painted more crooked than 
a ram's horn, although every naturalist knows 
that it is the straightest fish that swims. 



A prodigal starts with ten thousand pounds, and 
dies worth nothing ; a miser starts with nothing, 
and dies worth ten thousand pounds. It has been 



LACOjS. 39v5 

asked, which has had the best of it I I should pre- 
sume the prodigal : he has spent a fortune, but the 
miser has only left one ; — he has lived rich, to die 
poor ; the miser has lived poor, to die rich ; and if 
the prodigal quits life in debt to others, the miser 
quits it, still deeper in debt to himself. 

That time and labour are worse than useless that 
have been occupied in laying up treasures of falsa 
knowledge, which it will one day be necessary to 
unlearn, and in storing up mistaken ideas, which 
we must hereafter remember to forget. Timotheus, 
an ancient teacher of rhetoric, always demanded a 
double fee from those pupils who had been instructed 
by others ; for in this case, he had not only to plant 
in, but also to root out. 

Genius, in one respect, is like gold : numbers of 
persons are constantly writing about both, who have 
neither. The mystifications of metaphysics, and 
the quackeries of craniology, may be combined 
and conglomerated without end and without limit, 
in a vain attempt to enable common sense to grasp 
and to comprehend the causes of genius, or the 
modes of their operation. Neither are men of 
genius themselves one jot better able to give us a 
satisfactory solution of the springs and sources of 
their own powers, than other men. The plain, 
unvarnished fact, after all that may be said or sung 
about it, is this : that genius, in one grand particu- 
lar, is like life — we know nothing of either but by 
their effects. It is highly probable that genius* 

♦There is so much of true genius and poetic feeling of 
the highest order, in the following stanzas, that 1 cannot 
withstand the temptation of enriching my barren pages with 



3V6 LAC ON. 

may exist, under every sun and every sky, like 
moss, and with as many varieties ; but it may have 
been more fully developed in some situations than 
in others. The fogs of Iceland, however, have 
been warmed by poetry, and those of Holland by 

so beautiful a gem. This ode of Dr. Leyden's, in my hum- 
ble opinion, comes as near perfection as the sublunary 
inuse can arrive at, when assisted by a subject that is inter- 
esting and an execution that is masterly. It adds a deeper 
shade to that sympathy, which such lines must awaken, 
to reflect that the spirit which dictated them has fled 

ODE TO AN INDIAN GOLD COIN 

WRITTEN IN CHERICAL, MALABAR. 

Slave of the dark and dirty mine! 

What vanity has brought thee here? 
How can I love to see thee shine 

So bright, whom I have bought so dear! ■•• 

The tent-ropes flapping lone I hear, 
For twilight-converse, arm in arm; 

The jackal's shriek bursts on my ear, 
When mirth and music wont to charm. 

By Chcrical's dark wandering streams, 
Where cane-tufts shadow all the wild, 

Sweet visions haunt my waking dreams, 
Of Teviot loved while still a child — 
Of castled rocks, stupendous piled, 

By Esk or Eden's classic wave ; 
Where loves of } r outh and friendship smiled, 

Uncursed by thee, vile yellow slave! 

Fade, daydreams sweet, from memory fade !— 

The perish'd bliss of youth's first prime, 
That once so bright on fancy play'd, 

Revives no more in aftertime. 

Far from my sacred natal clime, 
I haste to an untimely grave ; 

The daring thoughts, that soar'd sublime, 
Are sunk in ocean's southern wave. 



LACON. 357 

wit : — * Vcrvecum in patriae crassoqile sub aere nasct 
ingenium?* If, indeed, any inferior power can have 
the slighest influence on genius, which is itself the 
essence of power, if aught which is of earth can 
control that which is of heaven, this influence must 
be looked for, not in soils, nor suns, nor climates, 
but in social institutions, and in the modes and forms 
of governments. The Jews have been much the 
same in all periods, and are the same in all places, 
because their social institutions are the same. Look 
also at Greece and at Italy, two countries the most 
adducible, inasmuch as they have been the most 

Slave of the mine ! thy yellow light, 
Gleams baleful as the tomb-fire drear j 

A gentle vision comes by night 

My lonely, widow'd heart to cheer* 
Her eyes are dim with many a tear, 

That once were guiding-stars to mine 
Her fond heart throbs with many a fear** 

I cannot bear to see thee shine. 

For thee, for thee, vile yellow slave, 

I left a heart that loved me true; 
I cross'd the tedious ocean-Wave, 

To roam in climes unknown and new. 

The cold wind of the stranger blew 
Chill on my wither'd heart:— the grave, 

Dark and untimely, met my view — 
And all for thee, vile yellow slave ! 

Ha ! comest thou now so late to mock 
A wanderer's banish 'd heart forlorn ; 

Now that his frame the lightning shock 
Of sun-rays tipt with death, has borne 1 
From love, from friendship, country torn, 

To memory's fond regrets the prey ! 
Vile slave, thy yellow dross I scorn ; — 

Go mix thee with thy kindred clay. 

• Genius may exist in a rustic land, under a dullatmo* 
pKirc.— Pub. 

34 



39S LACON. 

highly favoured with talent. The bee and tha 
nightingale, the olive and the grape, remainfbecauso. 
the climate is the same ; but where are the Gre- 
cians ? where are the Romans ? the governments 
and the institutions are changed, arid with them the 
men. Freedom" is not indeed the mother, but she 
is the nurse of genius, giving scope to its aspirings, 
confidence to its darings, and efficiency to its 
strength. As to those causes that may have been 
supposed to impart any particular bias or scope to 
genius, no sooner have we laid down some general 
rule on this head, than a thousand exceptions rush 
in to overturn it. If w T e affirm with Johnson, that 
genius is general power, accidentally determined to 
some particular direction, this may be true of the 
ten, but false of the ninety. Paley and Adam 
Smith have declared their total incapacity, with 
regard to all works of fiction, fancy, or imagina- 
tion ; and had Mr. Locke indulged in poetry, it is 
probable he would have failed more lamentably than 
Pope, when he dabbled in metaphysics. Such 
characters as Crichton and Mirandola, on the con- 
trary, would seem to support the theory of Dr. 
Johnson, and go to prove that extension is not 
always purchased at the price of profundity. 
Shakspeare possessed a universality of talent that 
would have enabled him to accomplish any thing. 

1 To form one perfect whole, in him conspire 
The painter's pencil, and the minstrel's lyre, 
The wisdom of the sage, and prophet's hallowed tire. 

Neither can we lay down any certain rule for 
genius, as regards the period of its development. 
Some have gone into the vineyard at the third 
hour, and some at the ninth ; some, like the Nile 
have been mean and obscure in their source, bui 



L A U O X . RN 

like that mighty river, majestic in their progress, 
with a stream both grand and fertile, have enriched 
the nations, rolling on with accumulated macmifi- 
cence, to the ocean of eternity. Others again 
there are. who seem to have adopted the motto of 
Cssar for their career, and who have burst upon 
ns from the depth of obscurity, as the lightning 
from the bosom o: the cloud. Their energy- has 
been equalled only by the:: brilliancy, and like 
f heaven to which I have compared 
them, they have shivered all opposition with a 
strength that obstacle served only to awaken, and 
resistance to augment. 

1 Blind, and lenied the grass corporeal light, 
Toe:: intellectual eye but shone more bright, 

S::e:u".^ in disease they found, and radiance in night.' 
See Hypocrisy — Character 9/ Milton. 



Doctor Johnson observed of the ancient Ro- 
mans, i that when poor, they robbed others, and 
when rich, themselves.' This remark ou^ht not to 
have been conrlned to that people only, for it is 
more or less applicable to all. Persecution, too, 
has been analogous in one respect to plunder, hav- 
ing been at all times both indicted and endured, as 
circumstances might serve. When the conquered 
happened to have become in their turn the conquer- 
ors, it is not the persecution that has been crushed, 
but the persecutors that have been changed * so 
ton^ has it taken mankind to learn this plain and 
precious truth, that it is easier to rind a thousand 
reasons why men should differ in opinion, than one 
why they should fight* about them. Persecution 

* I shall quote aerc^ for obvious reasons, the morning 
Frzyrr of the celebrated Dr. Fraaklin ;— 



400 L A O O N. 

has been the vice of times that are past, may he 
the vice of times that are present, but cannot be 
the vice of times that are to come, although we 
have already witnessed some events in the year 
eighteen hundred and twenty-one, that would lead 
us to suspect that centuries take a much longer 
time to arrive at years of discretion, than men. In 
Booth's review of the ancient constitutions of 
Greece and of Rome, there is a passage that 
expresses what I have to say in the happiest man- 
ner :— 

4 It thus appears that the constitutions of anti- 
quity were as inimical to religious freedom, as the 
worst of the governments of modern Europe ; and 
that conformity of opinion on the causes of the 
universe, has at no time been obtained, except by 
the assistance of penal statutes. An absolute free- 
dom in religious discussions has never yet existed, 
in any age or country. It is one of the dreams of 
the new philosophy. The superstition of the Lace- 
demonians prohibited all inquiry on the subject of 
religion, but was of little advantage to morality. 
The Spartan ladies celebrated their nightly orgies ; 
and the warriors, who every evening during their 
expeditions, sung hymns in concert, to the honour 
of the gods, were ready, without remorse, to join 
in the cryptia, or massacre of their slaves. The 
religion of Athens was interwoven with its consti- 
tution, and the lives of JEschylus, Anaxagoras, 

'O powerful Goodness, bountiful Father, merciful Guide! 
increase in me that wisdom which discovers my truest 
interest, strengthen my resolution to perform what that 
wisdom dictates, accept my kind offices to thy other crea- 
tures as the only return in my power for thy continued 
favours to me.' 



LACOX. 401 

Diagoras ; Protagoras, Prodicus, Socrates, and 
Alcibiades, demonstrated thatneither genius, learn- 
ing, courage, nor the softer virtues, uncombined 
with the superstition of the age, could screen theii 
possessors from the persecutions of an implacable 
priesthood. 

' Among the Romans, too, it was toleration, not 
freedom ; and even toleration itself was refused to 
the citizens of Rome. It was in vain, however, 
that those mighty masters of the world thus en- 
deavoured to fetter the transmission of thought, and 
to fix the religion of the human race. Man, though 
individually confined to a narrow spot of this globe, 
and limited in his existence to a few courses of 
the sun, has nevertheless an imagination which no 
despotism can control, and which unceasingly seek* 
for the author of his destiny, through the immensity 
of "space and the ever-rolling current of ages.-— The 
petty legislators of the hour threaten with their thun- 
ders, as if they were the gods of this lower world, 
and issue their mandates that a boundary shall be 
drawn round the energies of mind. ! Hitherto 
shait thou come, and no farther !' Such is the fiat ; 
but it is as useless as that which would restrain the 
waves of the ocean. — Time, who successively con- 
signs to oblivion the everchanging governments 
and religions of men, now sits over the ruins of 
those proud and boasted republics. Time, the 
eldest of the gods of Greece and Rome, has seen 
Olympus despoiled of its deities, and their tem- 
ples crumbled into dust. But, amid those mighty 
revolutions, religion has survived the wreck. Man, 
never ceasing to look for happiness in the heavens, 
has raised other structures for his devotion, under 
the symbols of the crescent and the cross P 



402 L A C O N. 

The distinguisliing peculiarity and most valuable 
characteristic of the diamond, is the power it pos 
sesses of refracting and reflecting the prismatic 
colours ; this property it is that gives fire, life, and 
brilliancy to the diamond. Other stones reflect 
the light as they receive it, bright in proportion to 
their own transparency, but always colourless ; and 
the ray comes out as it went in. What the dia- 
mond effects as to the natural light, genius performs 
as to that which is intellectual ; it can refract and 
reflect the surrounding rays elicited by the minds 
of others, and can divide and arrange them with 
such precision and elegance, that they are returned 
indeed, not as they were received, dull, spiritless, 
and monotonous, but full of fire, lustre, and life. 
We might also add, that the light of other minds is 
as necessary to the play and development of genius 
as the light of other bodies is to the play and 
radiation of the diamond. A diamond, incarcerated 
in its subterraneous prison, rough and unpolished, 
differs not from a common stone ; and a Newton 01 
a Shakspeare, deprived of kindred minds, and born 
amongst savages — savages had died. 

In literature, our taste will be discovered by that 
which we give, and our judgment by that which wo 
withhold. 



He that shortens the road to knowledge, length- 
ens life ; and we are all of us more indebted than 
we believe we are, to that class of writers whom 
Johnson termed the 'pioneers of literature, doomed 
to clear away the dirt and the rubbish for those 
heroes who press on to honour and to victory, 



LACON. 403 

without deigning to bestow a single smile on the 
humble drudge that facilitates their progress.' 

Self-love, in spite of all that has been said 
against it, performs divers necessary offices in the 
drama of life, and like friction in mechanics, is not 
without its compensations of good. Self-pride is 
the eldest daughter of self-love, and this it is that 
consoles us on many occasions, and exhilarates us 
on more ; it lends a spring to our joys and a pillow 
to our pains ; it heightens the zest of our percep- 
tions and softens the asperity of our repulse ; and 
it is not until this is mortally wounded within us, 
that the spirit to endure expires. This self-pride 
is the common friend of our humanity, and like 
the bell of our church, is resorted to on ail occa- 
sions; it ministers alike to our festivals or. our 
feasts ; our merriment or our mourning ; our weal 
or our wo. 



Laws that are too severe, are temptations to 
plunder on the part of the criminal, and to perjury 
on the part of the prosecutor ; since he would 
rather burden his conscience with a false oath 
than with a true one, which would arm cruelty to 
kill, in the garb of justice. Such laws, therefore, 
reverse the natural order of things, transferring the 
indignation of public feeling, which ought to follow 
the criminal, to the ferocity of that sentence by 
which he is to suffer, and taking from legislation 
its main support, the sympathy of public esteem 
and approbation ; for the victim to too severe a 
law is considered as a martyr, rather than a crimi- 
nal, and that which we pity, we cannot at the same 
lime detest. But there is, if possible, a stronger 



it>4 ,L a c o rv . 

objection against such laws ; they open a door to 
all kinds of favouritism and partiality, for they 
afford the executive a power of pardoning a friend, 
under the pretext of mercy ; or of destroying a foe, 
with the forms of justice. A law of this nature 
may be compared to a mastiff, that is so ferocious 
that he is never suffered to be let loose,.and which 
is no terror to the depredator, because it is known 
that he is constantly chained. Hence it happens 
that we often witness the jury, and even the judge 
in a criminal process, resorting to falsehood and 
contradiction, from an amiable determination to 
adhere to that which is merciful, rather than that 
which is legal, and compelling themselves to con- 
sider even perjury and prevarication as matters of 
lesser weight and moment, when the life of a fel 
low-creature is put into the scale against them. 
The fault is in the system, not in the men ; and 
there is one motto, that ought to be put at the 
head of our penal code, ' summum jus surama inju* 
ria* A law overcharged with severity, like a 
blunderbuss overloaded with powder, will each of 
them grow rusty by disuse, and neither will be 
resorted to, from the shock and the recoil that 
must inevitably follow their explosion. 

Nothing more completely baffles one who is full 
of trick and duplicity himself, than straight-forward 
and simple integrity in another. A knave would 
rather quarrel with a brother knave than with a 
fool, but he would rather avoid a quarrel with one 
honest man, than with both. He can combat a 
r ool by management and address, and he can con- 

* T%e extreme of law is the extreme of injustice. — Pub. 



LAC ON. 405 

quer a knave by temptations. But the honest man 
is neither to be bamboozled nor bribed. There- 
fore the knave has to combat here with something 
quite out of his calculation ; for His creed is, that 
the world is a market, where every thing is to be 
bought, and also to be sold ; and it is unfortunate 
that he has such good reasons for so bad a faith ; 
he himself is ready either to buy or to sell, but ho 
has now to do with something that is neither, and 
he is staggered and thrown off his guard, when 
opposed to that inflexible honesty, which he has 
read of perhaps in a book, but never expected to 
see realized in a man. It is a new case in his 
record, a serious item not cast up in his accounts, 
although it makes the balance tremendously heavy 
against him. Here he can propose nothing that 
will be acceded to, he can offer nothing that will 
be received. He is as much out of his reckoning, 
as a man who, being in want of jewels, should 
repair to the diamond-mart, with five pounds in his 
pocket ; he has nothing to give as an equivalent, 
he exposes his paltry wares of yellow dust, or 
dirty trick, and fancies that he can barter such 
trash for the precious pearls of principle and of 
honour, with those w T ho know the value of the one 
and the vileness of the other. Napoleon was a 
notorious dupe to his false conceptions on this 
subject ; inflexible integrity was an article that he 
neither found in himself, nor calculated upon in 
another. He had three modes of managing men : 
force, fraud, and corruption. A true disciple of 
Machiavclli, he could not read what was not in his 
book. But when he was opposed to a British force, 
he found out his mistake, and his two omnipotent 
metals proved false divinities here- He had to 



406 LACOI?. 

contend witk. those whom he could neither bea 
with his iron, nor bribe with his gold; whom he 
could not attack without being overcome, nor run 
from without being overtaken. 



Religion* has treated knowledge sometimes as 
an enemy, sometimes as &n hostage; often as a 
captive, and more often as a child ; but knowledge 
has become of age ; and religion must either re- 
nounce her acquaintance, or introduce her as a 
companion and respect her as a friend, 



He that undertakes a long march should not 
have tight shoes, nor he that undertakes great 
measures, tight manacles. In order to save all, it 
is sometimes necessary to risk ail ; to risk less, 
would be to lose the whole, since half would be 
swallowed up by those who have deserted us and 
the other half by those who have defeated us. 
The Marquis of Wellesley doubled the resources 

*I do most particularly except from the observations 
above, that religion which has been justly termed the re- 
formed; for the reformation was a glorious and practical 
assent to my position, that ' knowledge has become of age. 1 
While the 'Christian looks to this faith chiefly as a future 
good, even the skeptic should befriend it as a present good, 
and the sound philosopher as both. I shall finish this note 
by a splendid quotation from Sir William Drummond, 
who began by going to the skies for skepticism, and finished 
by making a pilgrimage to Rome, not to establish his faith 
but his infidelity. ' lie that will not reason is a bigot, he 
that cannot reason is a fool, and he that dares not reason is a 
slave.'' This passage is taken from his preface ; an effort 
so superior to his book, that one wonders how the two could 
have come together. I have, however, heard such a union 
accounted for, by an observation that the match was per 
lfcctly legal, because tksymcrt not- of kin,. 



L A C O N . 407 

of India, but there was a time when his Leaden- 
hall* directors fancied that they foresaw, in the 
expense of his equipment, bankruptcy and ruin. 
They sent him a long letter of remonstrance ; 
4 Verbosa et grandis epistola venit a Capreis.'\ He 

♦ These gentlemen, by way of postscript to the letter al- 
luded to above, settled eight thousand pounds per annum 
on the marquis for life. On another occasion, they gave" 
Lord Cornwallis one hundred thousand pounds, and free- 
dom of the city in the grocers' company, and on the same 
day they gave the freedom of the city to Sir William Mead- 
ows, and made him also a grocer, but forgot to give him 
a single sous to set up shop. It was thought that Sir Wil- 
liam was hardly dealt with, considering his services, which 
had been successful and splendid, and his epigram appear- 
ed on the occasion, addressed from Sir William to Lord 
Cornwallis : — 

* From Leaden-hail the news is come, 

That we must grocers be ; 
To you* my lad, they give a plum j 
But not a fig for me.' 

This brings to my mmd another epigram on a similar 
occasion, but which I shall relate, as I think it has some- 
thing more of point. Admiral Keppel underwent a trial 
of court-martial at Liverpool, on the score of having shown 
more prudence in a naval engagement than suited the views 
of the party that opposed him, and which has been still more 
eclipsed by the brilliancy of modern tactics. Burke assisted 
him on his trial, and he was honourably acquitted. After 
this acquittal, the freedom of the city of London was pre- 
sented to him in a box of heart of oak, and on the the same 
day Rodney received the same compliment* in a box of 

fold. Rodney was at that time known to be a little em- 
arrassedin his affairs, and the following epigram appeared 
on the occasion : — 

* Each favourite's defective part, 

Satiric cits you've told ; 
For cautious Keppel wanted heart t 
And gallant Rodney gold. 1 

t A verbose and important letter came from Caprea,~Putk 



408 LACOX, 

sent back this truly laconic reply : c Gentlemen^ 1 
cannot govern kingdoms by the rule of three? 

The great, perhaps the principal cause of that 
delight we receive from a fine composition, whether 
it. be in prose* or in verse, I conceive to be this : 
the marvellous and magic powers it confers upon 
the reader ; enabling an inferior mind at one glance* 
and almost without an effort, to seize, to embrace, 
and to enjoy those remote combinations of wit, 
melting harmonies of sound, and vigorous conden- 
sations of sense, that cost a superior mind so much 
perseverance, labour and time. And I think I am 
supported in this proposition, by the fact, that our 
admiration of fine writing, will always be in propor- 
tion to its real difficulty, and its apparent ease. 
And on the contrary, it is equally corroborative 
of my statement, that any thing of confusion or 
obscurity, creative of a pause in the electric 
rapidity excited within us by genuine talent, 
weakens in some sort its influence, and impedes 
the full success of its power. 



In comparing ourselves with those, our good 
grandfathers and grandmothers, the ancients, we 

* I am persuaded that the rythm of prose is far more 
difficult, and in much fewer hands than the harmony of 
poetry. We have so many middling poets that we might 
exclaim with Juvenal : — 



• ( Miserum est cum tot ubique 



Vatibus occur r as ^ 

If most of them could be melted down into one sterling 
writer of solid prose, their publishers and their reader* 
would have less to complain of. 

t It is a woful fate to meet every where bo many miserable rhym* 
*ers.— Pub. 



>■ Z \ L A >£ ON. 409 

may fairly ccngratuhte ^Uyselves on many super! • 
orities ; but in some things we are still in error, 
and have rather changed than conquered our 
delusions. For it is not a less destructive infatua- 
tion, to flee good as an evil, than to follow evil a$ 
a good ; to shun philosophy as folly, than to pursue 
folly as philosophy ; to be surfeited by the vora* 
cious credulities of blind confidence, than to be 
starved by the barren perplexities of doubt. It is 
a truism, that the same effects often proceed from 
causes that are opposite ; for we are as liable to 
be bewildered from having too many objects, as 
from having none ; whether we explore the naked 
de$ert of sand and of sterility, or the exuberant, 
wilderness of forest that none can clear arid 
thicket that none can penetrate. 



Johnson said that wit consists in finding out 
reserfcblances, and judgment, in discerning differ* 
ences; and as their provinces were so opposite, it 
was natural that they should seldom coexist in the 
same men. This position of Dr> Johnson, like many 
more that came from his ^pen,:sound# so much like 
truth, that it will often p&ss for it. But he seems to 
have overlooked the fact, that in-deciding on thing* 
that differ, we exercise the very same powers that 
are called out in determining on things that resem- 
ble. Thus, in comparing the merits of a picture, 
as regards its faithfulness to the original, he would 
give a very false? account of it who should declare 
it to be a perfect likeness, because the one feature 
was correct, while all the others were dissimilar. 
But this can never happen, because the same 
acumen that discovers to us the closeness of ooe 
*9 



410 LACO*, 

feature to the original, shows us also the discord- 
ancy of all the others. But the direct proof that 
Johnson was wrong is this : there happens to 
have been quite as much wit exercised in finding 
out things that differ, as in hitting upon those that 
resemble. Sheridan once observed of a certain 
speech, that all its facts were invention, and all 
its wit, memory ; two more brilliant, yet brief dis- 
tinctions, perhaps were never made. Mr. Pitt com- 
pared the constant opposition of Sheridan to an 
eternal drag-chain, clogging all the wheels, retard- 
ing the career, and embarrassing the movements 
of government. Mr. Sheridan replied, that a real 
drag-chain differed from this imaginary drag-chain 
of the minister, in one important essential : it was 
applied only when the machine was going down 
the hill. In the first volume, I have recorded an 
anecdote of Doctor Crowe, where Johnson himself 
was vanquished by a piece of wit, the only merit 
of which lay in the felicitous detection of a very 
important difference. Those who have sat in Mr. 
Sheridan's company might record many similar 
examples ; it was never my good fortune but once 
to be a satellite where he was the luminary. He 
kept us in the sphere of his attraction until the 
morning : and when I reflect on his rubicund 
countenance, and his matchless powers of con- 
viviality, tie seemed to preside in the throne of wit, 
with more effulgence than Phaeton in the chariot 
of the sun ; but as an humble example of my 
present subject, I would add this distinction be- 
tween them : the first, by his failure, turned the 
day into night ; but the latter, by his success, by 
the beams of his eloquence, and the flashes of his 
wit, turned the night into day. 



LA CON. 411 

Motion is the only property we can affirm with 
certainty to be inseparable at all times from all 
matter, arid consciousness* from all mind. With 
these two exceptions, the whole universe of things 
is parcelled out, and partitioned into regions of 
probability or improbability, acquiescence or hesita- 
tion, confidence or conjecture. That emperor who 
chiefly sways these petty states, who numbers the 
greatest census of subjects, and lords it oveT the 
richest extent of territory, is the capricious despot, 
— doubt. He is at once the richest and the poor- 
est of potentates, for he has locked up immense 
wealth in his treasury, but he cannot find the key. 
His huge and gloomy palace floats and fluctuates 
on the immeasurable ocean of uncertainty ; its 
moorings are more profound than our ignorance, 
but more strong than our wisdom ; the pile is stable 
from its very instability, and has rode out those 
storms that have so often overthrown the firmest 
pharos of science, and the loftiest lightbouse of 
philosophy. Nothing is more perplexing than the 
power, but nothing is more durable than the dynasty 

* Some may ask, is not consciousness suspended by 
sleep ? Certainly not ; otherwise none could dream but those 
who are awake. The memory is sometimes suspended in 
dreams, and the judgment always ; but there is no moment 
when consciousness ceases, although there may be many 
when it is not remembered. It may also be asked, as to 
matter, whether there be any motion going on in the com- 
ponent parts of the diamond % We may be assured there 
is; but a motion, compared to our finite faculties, almost 
infinitely slow, but to which it must gradually yield, and 
cease to be a diamond, as certainly, but not as quickly, as 
this table I am writing on will cease to be a table. It is 
curious, that of the two brightest things we know, the one 
should have the quickest motion and the other the slowest, 
lightning and the diamond. 



419 L A C O P . 

of doubt; for he reigns in the heart* of all hi» 
people, but gives satisfaction to none of them, and 
yet he is the only despot who can never die while 
any of his subjects live. 

In the complicated and marvellous machinery of 
circumstances, it is absolutely impossible to decide 
what would have happened, as to some events, if 
the slightest disturbance had taken place in the 
march of those that preceded them. We may 
observe a little dirty wheel of brass, spinning round 
upon its greasy axle, and the result is, that in an* 
other apartment, many yards' distance from it, a 
beautiful piece of silk issues from a loom, rivalling 
in its hues the teints of the rainbow ; there are myr- 
iads of events in our lives, the distance between 
which was much greater than that between this 
wheel and the riband, but where the connexion 
has been much more close. If a private country- 
gentleman in Cheshire, about the year seventeen 
hundred and thirty, had not been overturned in his 
carriage, it is extremely probable that America, 
instead of being a free republic at this moment, 
would have continued a dependant colony of Eng- 
land. This country-gentleman happened to be 
Augustine Washington, esquire, who was thus acci- 
dentally thrown into the company of a lady who 
afterwards became his wife, who emigrated with 
him to America, and in the year seventeen hundred 
and thirty-two, at Virginia, became the envied 
mother of George Washington the great. 

To look back to antiquity is one thing, to go back 
to it is another ; if we look backwards to antiquity 
it should be as those who are winning * race, to 



LACON. 413 

press forwards the faster, and to leave the beaten 
still farther behind. 



D"Il authors will measure our judgment not by 
our abilities, but by their own conceit. To admire 
their vapidity, is to have superior taste ; to despise 
it, is to have none. 

We may concede any man a right without 
doing any man a wrong, but we can favour no one 
without injuring some one. Where there are 
many claimants, and we select one for his superior 
merit, this is a preference, and to this preference 
he has a right : but if we make our election from 
any other motive, this is a partiality, and this par- 
tiality, although it may be a benefit to him, is 
wrong to another. We may be very active and 
very busy, but if strict justice be not the rudder of 
all our other virtues, the faster we sail, the farther 
we shall find ourselves from ' that haven where we 
would be' 

There is not a little generalship and stratagem 
required in the managing and marshalling of our 
pleasures, so that each shall not mutually encroach 
to the destruction of all. For pleasures are very 
voracious, too apt to worry one another, and each, 
like Aaron's serpent, is prone to swallow up the 
rest. Thus, drinking will soon destroy the power, 
gaming the means, and sensuality the taste, for 
other pleasures less seductive, but far more salu- 
brious and permanent, as they are pure. 

In proportion as nations get more corrupt, more 
disgrace will attach to poverty, and more respect to 
55 # 



4H tACQN, 

wealth. There are two questions that would com* 
pletely reverse this order of things : what keeps 
some peisons poor ? and, what has made soma 
others rich ? The true answer to these queries 
would often make the poor man more proud of his 
poverty than the rich man is of his wealth, and the 
rich man more justly ashamed of his wealth than 
the poor man unjustly now is of his poverty. 

It is lamentable that the intellectual light, which 
has so much more power than the solar, should 
have so much less rapidity ; the sons of science 
mount to their meridian splendour, unobserved by 
the millions beneath them, who look through the 
misty medium of prejudice, of ignorance, and of 
pride. Unlike the sun in the firmament, it is not 
until they are set themselves that they enlighten 
others. 

Patriotism, liberty, reform, and many other 
good things have got a bad name by keeping bad 
company ; for those who have ill intentions, cannot 
afford to work with tools that have ill sounds. 
When a knave sallies forth to deceive us, he 
dresses up his thoughts in his best words, as 
naturally as his body in his best clothes ; but they 
must expect a Flemish account, that give him credit 
either for the one or for tbe other. 

England can bear more mismanagement, luxury, 
and corruption, than any other nation under hea- 
ven ; and those who have built their predictions of 
her downfall from analogies taken from other 
nations, have all fortunately failed, because England 
has four points of strength and revivescence, no* 



lacok. m 

common to those examples from which those anal- 
ogies have been drawn. Two of these source* 
of strength are physical, her coal and her iron ; and 
two of them are moral, the freedom of the press 
and the trial by jury ; and they are mutually con- 
servative of each other, for should any attempt be 
made to destroy the two last, the two first are admi- 
rably adapted to defend them. 

Every fool knows how often he has been a rogue, 
but every rogue does not know how often he ha* 
been a fool. 

The more we know of history, the less shall we 
esteem the subjects of it ; and to despise our spe- 
cies, is the price we must too often pay for our 
knowledge of it. 

The three great apostles of practical atheism, 
that make converts without persecuting, and retain 
them without preaching, are wealth, health, and 
power. 

It is curious that we pay statesmen for what they 
say, not for what they do ; and judge of them from 
what they do, not from what they say. Hence 
they have one code of maxims for profession and 
another for practice, and make up their con- 
sciences as the Neapolitans do their beds, with one 
set of furniture for show and another for use. 



Man is a compound being ; and what little know- 
ledge he can arrive at, to be practical, scarcely can 
be pure. Like the air he breathes, he may refine 
it, until the one is unfit to be respired and the other 



410 L A C O W 

\*> bo applied. Mathematicians have sought know* 
ledge in figures, philosophers in systems, logicians 
in subtilties, and metaphysicians in sounds. It is 
not in any nor in all of these. He that studies 
only men, will get the body of knowledge without 
the soul, and he that studies only books, the soul 
without the body. He that to what he sees, adds 
observation, and to what he reads reflection, is in 
the right road to knowledge, provided that, in scru- 
tinizing the hearts of others, he neglects not his own; 
and, like the Swiss,* doubles his exertions abroad, 
that he may more speedily profit by them & 
home. 

No duels are palatable to both parties, ercept 
those that are engaged in from motives of revenge 
Such duels are rare in modern times, for law has 
been found as efficacious for this purpose as lead, 
though not so expeditious ; and the lingering tor- 
tures inflicted by parchment, as terrible as the more 
summary decisions of the pistol. In all affairs of 
honour, excepting those where the sole motive is 
revenge, it is curious that fear is the main ingre- 
dient. From fear we accept a challenge, and from 
fear we refuse it. From the false fear of opinion 
we enter the lists, or we decline to do so, from the 
real fear of danger, or the moral fear of guilt. 
Duelling is an evil that it will be extremely difficult 
to eradicate, because it would require a society 
composed of such materials as are not to be found 

* Thi^ pining to revisit their native land, peenliar to the 
Swiss, is termed Nostalgia, a word that signifies a strong 
desire to return. They have been known even to die when 
this cannot be attained ; and it is remarkable that the same 
Teroedy that cures a Swiss, kills a Sco>\ 



LACO W. 4IT 

without admixture ; a society where all who are 
riot Christians, must at least be gentlemen, or if 
neither — philosophers 

Some praters are so full of their own gabble, ana 
so fond of their own discord, that they would not 
suspend their eternal monotonies, to hear the wit 
of Sheridan, or the point of Swift ; one might as 
well attempt to stop the saw of a task-working 
stonecutter by the melodies of an iEolian harp. 
Others again there are, who hide that ignorance in 
silent gravity, that these expose by silly talk ; but 
they are so coldly correct, and so methodically dull, 
that any attempt to raise the slumbering sparks of 
genius, by means of such instruments, would be to 
stir up a languishing fire with a poker of ice. There 
is a third class, forming a great majority, being a 
heavy compound of the two former, and possessing 
many of the properties peculiar to each; thus, they 
have just ignorance enough to talk amongst fools, 
and just sense enough to be silent amongst wits. 
But they liave no vivacity in themselves, nor relish 
for it in another ; to attempt to keep up the ball of 
conversation with such partners, would be to play 
a game of fives against a bed of feathers. 

Man grows up to teach his children as a father, 
and he looks back to the time when he himself was 
taught as a child. Hence, he often becomes a 
pedagogue by circumstance, and a dogmatist by 
choice. He carries these principles beyond his 
own contracted sphere, into regions without his 
jurisdiction, and assumes the dignity of the pre- 
ceptor, in situations where the docility of the pupil 
would be more consonant to his powers, but lew 



41S A lACOIH, 

congenial to his pride. Neitlier are words, ihose 
tools he works with, less imperfect than his skill in 
applying thern. Words, ' those fickle daughters of 
the earth? are the creation of a being that is finite, 
and when applied to explain that which is infinite, 
they fail ; for that which is made surpasses not the 
maker; nor can that which is immeasurable by 
our thoughts, be measured by our tongues. Man 
is placed in a system where he sees benevolence 
acting through the instrumentality of wisdom : these 
proofs multiply upon him, in proportion to his 
powers of intellectual perception, and in those 
departments of this system which he understands 
the best, these marks of wisdom and benevolence 
are most discernible. An astronomer would have 
a sublimcr view of the powers of the first cause in 
magnitude than an anatomist, but the anatomist 
would have a finer conception of this wisdom in 
minuteness than the astronomer. A peasant may 
have as sincere a veneration for this Being, and 
adore him with as pure a worship, as either the 
astronomer or the anatomist ; but his appreciations 
of him must be less exalted, because they are built 
upon a narrower base. If, then, in all the parts of 
this system which we can understand, these marks 
of goodness are so plain and legible, is it not 
rational to infer the same goodness in those parts 
of the system which we cannot comprehend ? 
The Designer of this system has not left himself 
without a witness, but has unfolded his high quali- 
ties so fully in mostinstances, that if there are some 
where he appears to us obscure or unintelligible, to 
believe in our own ignorance, rather than in the in- 
justice of such a. Being, is not only the safest creed, 
but the soundest philosophy. The end may be a 



LACO.1, 4t\j 

state of optimism, and this would be worthy of 
God ; but the means are a state of discipline, and 
this is fitting for man. 

. One endowed with a moderate share of mathe- 
maiical knowledge* might be capable of following 
Sir Isaac Newton through the rationale of many of 
his propositions, and would find him clear and irre- 
fragable in all of them. But presently he cornea 
to that philosopher's discovery of fluxions, the 
principles and deductions of which happen to be 
beyond his comprehension; would it not be the 
height of presumption for such a man to suspect 
Sir Isaac Newton of obscurity, rather than himself 
of incapacity ? But if this reasoning have any 
weight between one man and another, with how 
much greater power must it operate between man 
and his Maker ? Infidelity, alas ! is not always 
built upon doubt, for this is diffident : nor philoso- 
phy always upon wisdom, for this is meek , but 
pride is neither. The spoiled children of human 
science, like some other bantlings, are seen at times 
to spurn at the good that is offered, in. a vain but 
boisterous struggle for the evil that is withheld. 



No man can live or die so much for himself as he 
that lives and dies for others ; and the only great- 
ness of those little men who have conquered every 
thing but themselves, consists in the steadiness 
with which they have overcome the most splendid 
temptations to be good, in consequence of their 
low schemes and grovelling wishes to be powerful, 
like Napoleon, who — 

1 Though times, occasions, chances, foes and friends, 
Urged him to purest fame, by noblest ends, 



**) LA-C-OJff. 

In this alone was great— to have withstood 
Such varied, vast temptations to be good.' 

Conflagration of Moscsx*. 

Were we to say that we admire the tricks and 
gambols of a monkey, but think nothing of Ilia 
power that created those limbs and muscles by 
which they are perfprmed, even a coxcomb would 
stare at such an asseveration ; and yet he is in the 
daily commission of a much grosser contradiction — 
still he neglects his Maker, but worships himself. 

Truth is the object of reason, and this is one ; 
beauty is the object of taste, and this is multiform. 



Oratory is the huffing and blustering spoiled 
child of a semi-barbarous age. The press is the 
foe of rhetoric, but the friend of reason ; and the 
art of declamation has been sinking in value, from 
the moment* that speakers were foolish enough to 
publish, and readers wise enough to read. 

* There are no potentates of modern times that would 
imitate Philip, ana offer a town containing ten thousand 
inhabitants for an orator. The ancients were a gossiping 
and a listening, rather than a writing or a reading set. 
This circumstance gave an orator great opportunities of 
display ; for the tongue effects that for thoughts that the 
press does for words ; but the tongue confers on them a 
much shorter existence, and produces them in a far less 
tangible shape ; two circumstances that are often not unfa- 
vourable to the speechifier. An ancient demagogue said, 
that so long as the people had ears, he would rather that 
they should be without understandings. All good things 
here below have their drawbacks, and all evil things their 
compensations. The drawback of the advantage of print- 
ing is, that it enables coxcombs to deluge us with dulness ; 
and the compensation for the want of this art was this, that 
if blockheads wrote nonsense, no one else would transcribe 



L A C O N . 4iH 

tight* whether it be material or moral, is the 
best reformer ; for it prevents those disorders 
which other remedies sometimes cure, but some- 
times confirm. 



Man, if he compare himself with all that he can 
see, is at the zenith of power ; but if he compare 
himself with ail that he can conceive, he is at the 
nadir of weakness. 

We often pretend to fear w r hat we really despise, 
and more often to despise what we really fear. 



As in our amours those conquests that have 
cost the conqueror the most difficulty, have retain* 
ed him the longest in subjection — causing him, like 
Pyrrhus, by victory to be undone— so it is also in 

ii; neither could they take their trash to the market, when 
it cost so much time and labour to multiply the copies. 
Booksellers are like horse-dealers in one respect, and if they 
buy the devil, they must also sell the devil ; bat the misfor- 
tune is, that a bookseller seldom understands the merits of a 
book so thoroughly as the horse-dealer the merits of a horse, 
and reads with far less judgment than the other rides. But 
to return to the speechifiers. An orator who, like Demos- 
thenes, appeals to the head rather than the heart — who 
resorts to argument, not to sophistry — who has no sounding 
words, unsupported by strong conceptions — who would 
rather convince without persuading, than persuade without 
convincing— is an exception to all rules, and would succeed 
in all periods. When the Roman people had listened to 
the long, diffuse, and polished discourses of Cicero, they de- 
parted, saying to one another, ■ What a splendid speech our 
orator has made !' But when the Athenians heard Demos- 
thenes, he so filled them with the subject-matter of his ora- 
tion, that they quite forgot the orator, but left him at the 
/fnisli of his harangue, breathing revenge, and exclaiming, 
- Let us gro and fight against Philip !' 
3S 



«K LAO-OIK. 

our appetites : those enjoyments wo have come 
over to with the most repugnance, we abandon 
with the most regret. 

Slander cannot make the subject of it either 
better or worse ; it may represent us in a false light, 
or place a likeness of us in a bad one, but we are 
the same : not so the slanderer ; for calumny 
always makes the calumniator worse, but the 
calumniated — never. 



Many schemes, ridiculed as Utopian, decried as 
visionary, and declaimed against as impracticable, 
will be realized the moment the march of sound 
knowledge has effected this for our species : that 
of making men wise enough to see their true inter* 
ests, and disinterested enough to pursue them. 



It is a common observation that any fool can 
get money ; but they are not wise that think so. 
The fact is* that men apparently dull do get money, 
and yet they have no reason to thank their dulness 
for their wealth. They appear to be stupid on 
every thing unconnected with their object, money, 
because they have concentrated all their powers to 
this particular purpose. But they are wise in their 
generation, as those who have any dealings with 
them will find out. Like moles, they are consid* 
ered blind by common observers, although, in the 
formation of their little yellow heaps, both are suf- 
ficiently sharpsighted, and have better eyes, for 
their own low and grovelling purposes, than those 
bystanders, who suspect that they have none. 



L A C O N . 423 

In women we love that whicl is natural, we 
admire that which is acquired, and shun that which 
is artificial. But a system of education that com- 
bines the evil of all, and gives us the good of nei- 
ther ; that presents us with the ignorance of that 
which is natural, without its artlessness, and the 
cunning of that which is artificial, without its 
acquirements ; that gives us little to admire, less to 
love, and much to despise ; is more calculated to 
procure the female a partner for the minuet than 
for the marriage, and for the ball than for the bed. 



Time does as mi*ch for a firstrate poet, as for a 
firstrate painter, but in a very different manner. 
The poet whose efforts have established his repu- 
tation, and whose celebrity has gone down to after- 
ages, will receive a meed of renown even greater 
lhan he deserves, and that text of scripture will be 
verified as to his fame, which says : * To him that 
nath, shall be given/ Time, in fact, effects that 
for a fine poem that distance performs for a fine 
view. When we look at a magnificent city from 
some height that is above it, and beyond it, we are 
sufficiently removed to lose sight of its little alleys, 
blind lanes, and paltry habitations ; we can discover 
nothing but its lofty spires, monuments and towers, 
its palaces, and its sanctuaries. And so it is with 
a poem, when we look back upon it through a long 
interval of time ; we have been in the habit of 
hearing only the finest passages, because these 
only are repeated ; the flats and the failings, either 
we have not read or do not remember. The finest 
passages of Milton or of Shakspeare can be re- 
hearsed by many who have never waded through 
•all the pages of cither. Dacier observed that 



424 LACO N . 

Homer was a thousand years more beautiful than 
Virgil, as if Calliope traced the etymology of her 
name to her wrinkles rather than her dimples. 
Voltaire carried this opinion so far, that he seems 
to infer that distance of time might make a poet 
still more interesting, by making him invisible ; for 
he asserts that the reputation of Dante will con 
tinually be growing greater and greater, because 
there is nobody now that reads him. This senti- 
ment must be a source of great consolation to 
many of our modern poets, who have already lived 
to see themselves arrive at this point of greatness, 
and may in some sort be saij. to have survived 
their own apotheosis. 



It is with diseases of the mind, as with those of 
the body : we are half dead before we understand 
our disorder, and half cured when we do. 



Liberty will not descend to a people, a people 
must raise themselves to liberty ; it is a blessing 
that must be earned before it can be enjoyed. 
That nation cannot be free, where reform is a com- 
mon hack, that, is dismissed with a kick the mo- 
ment it has brought the rider to his place. That 
nation cannot be free, where parties are but differ* 
ent roads, leading to one common destination, plun- 
der. That nation cannot be free, where the rulers 
will not feel for the people, until they are obliged 
to feel with the people, and then it is too late. 
That nation cannot be free, that is bought by its 
own consent, and sold against it ; where the rogue 
that is in rags is kept in countenance by the rogue 
that is in ruffles, and where, from nigh to low, from 
♦he lord to the lackey, there is nothing radical hut 



LA CON. 425 

corruption, and nothing contemptible but poverty ; 
when both patriot and placeman, perceiving that 
money can do every thing, are prepared to do every 
thing for money. That nation cannot be free, 
where religion is, with the higher orders, a matter 
of indifference ; with the middle, of acquiescence ; 
and with the lower, of fanaticism. That nation 
cannot be free, where the leprosy of selfishness 
sticks to it as close as the curse of Elisha to his 
servant Gehiza : where the rulers ask not what 
recommends a man, but who ; and where those 
who want a rogue, have no occasion to make, but 
to choose. I hope there is no nation like this 
under heaven ; but if there were, these are the 
things that, however great she might be, would 
keep such a nation from liberty, and liberty from 
her. These are the things that would force upon 
such a nation — first, a government of expedients , 
secondly, of difficulties ; and lastly, of danger. 
Such a nation could begin to feel, only by fearing 
all that she deserved, and finish by suffering all 
that she feared. 



A free press is the parent of much good in a 
state. But even a licentious press is a far less 
evil than a press that is enslaved, because both 
sides may be heard in the former case, but not in 
the latter. A licentious press may be an evil, an 
enslaved press must be so ; for an enslaved press 
may cause error to be more current than wisdom, 
and wrong more powerful than right ; a licentious 
press cannot effect these things, for if it give the 
poison, it gives also the antidote, which an enslaved 
press withholds. An enslaved press is doubly 
fata! : it not onlv takes away the true light, for in 



&U$ L A C O N . 

that ease we might stand still, but it sets up a false 
one, that decoys us to our destruction. 



All nations that have reached the highest point 
of civilization, may from that hour assume for their 
motto, * Videri quam esse:* And whenever, and 
wherever, we see ostentation substituted for happi- 
ness, profession for friendship, formality for religion, 
pedantry for learning, buffoonery for wit, artifice 
for nature, and hypocrisy for every thing ; these 
are the signs of the times which he that runs may 
read, and which will enable the philosopher to date 
the commencement of national decay, from the 
consummation of national refinement. 



We should choose our books as we would our 
companions, for their sterling and intrinsic merit, 
not for their adscititions or accidental advantages. 
For with books, as with men, it seldom happens 
that their performances are fully equal to their pre- 
tensions, nor their capital to their credit. There- 
fore, to repeat a sentence in my preface, we should 
consider rather what is said, than who says it, and 
the consequence of the argument, rather than the 
consequence of him that delivers it ; for wise things 
have sometimes escaped from heads that are fool- 
ish, and foolish things from heads that are wise. 
We should prefer preceptors who teach us to think, 
such as Bacon and Locke, rather than those that 
teach us to argue, as Aristotle and Cicero ; and we 
should give our days and our nights to those who, 
like Tacitus and Sully, describe men as they are, 
than to those who, like Harrington and Doling- 
broke, describe men as they ought to be, Of 

*T0SI<W. -;v'/.-; ! v^ Vn.>,~-Pt:3. 



LACON. 427 

the poets, it will bo most sale to read chiefly those 
of times that are past, who are still popular in times 
that are present ; and when w r e read a few of those 
that are ancient, this is the most pleasing and com- 
pendious mode of reading all that is good in those 
that are modern. The press enables poets to de- 
luge us with streams from Helicon, rapid, over- 
flowing, and inexhaustible ; but noisy, frothy, and 
muddy withal, and profuse, rather than profound. 
But we shall find more difference of opinion as to 
the comparative merits of the poets, than of all 
other writers. For in science, reason is the guide ; 
but in poetry, taste. Truth, I have before observed, 
is the object of the one, which is uniform and in- 
divisible ; beauty is the object of the other, which 
is varied and multiform. 



There are many who say more than the truth on 
some occasions, and balance the account with their 
consciences by saying less than the truth on others. 
But the fact is, that they are in both instances, as 
fraudulent as he would be that exacted more than 
his due from his debtors, and paid less than their 
due to his creditors. 



It is a piece of pedantry to introduce foreign 
words into our language, when we have terms of 
legitimate English origin that express all that 
these exotics convey, with the advantage of being 
intelligible to every one. For foreign sounds, like 
foreign servants, ought not to be introduced to the 
disadvantage of the natives, until these are found 
unworthy of trust. I was once asked at a party 
what was the difference between a conversation, 
and a c&nversgzionp i I replied> that if there \ver$ 



438 LAC ON. 

any difference, I considered it must be this : in a 
conversation, if a blockhead talked nonsense, you 
were not obliged to listen to him ; but in a conver- 
sazione, you were. I have heard of an old gentle- 
man who was a better theologist than a chymist, 
gravely asking a friend if he would be so good as 
to explain to him the difference between the old 
word Calvinism and the new term galvinism. He 
might have replied that both of them had a great 
deal to do with jire, but that neither of them had 
been hitherto able to explain the nature of that ele- 
ment with which they were so intimately connected. 



A system of mal-government begins by refusing 
man his rights, and ends by depriving him of the 
power of appreciating the value of that which he 
has lost. It is possible that the Polish serf, the 
Russian boor, or the descendant of the kidnapped 
negro, may be contented with their condition ; but 
it is not possible that the mind of a Franklin, or a 
Howard, could be contented to see them so. The 
philosopher knows that the most degrading symp- 
tom of hopeless vassalage, is this very apathy that 
it ultimately superinduces on its victims, as the 
surgeon knows that the most alarming symptom of 
a deadly mortification having taken place, is the 
cessation of pain on the part of the patient. 

If sensuality be our only happiness, we ought to 
envy the brutes ; for instinct* is a surer, shorter, 
and safer guide to such happiness than reason. 

* There are some facts recorded of the elephant, that one 
scarcely knows how to reconcile to mere instinct, if the facto 
be authentic. I have heard the late Sir George Staunton 
9*y t that when General Meddows reviewed four war-el©- 



LACON. 4 29 

If we read the history of disorders, we are aston- 
ished that men live ; if of cures, we are still more 
astonished that they die. But death is the only 
sovereign whom no partiality can warp, and no 
price corrupt. He neither spares the hero, his 
purveyor by wholesale ; nor the physician,* his 

phants that had been sent from Ceylon to Madras, to assist 
in getting the British artillery through the gauls, a very 
extraordinary circumstance took place. The war -elephant, 
it is well known, is trained to perform the grand salam, 
which is done by falling on the first joint of the foreleg at a 
certain signal. The largest of the four elephants was par- 
ticularly noticed by the general as being terribly out of con- 
dition; the keeper was ordered up to explain the cause, and 
was in the act of doing this to the general, when the ele- 
phant advanced a few steps out of the line, and with one 
stroke of his proboscis laid his keeper dead at his feet. He 
then retired back again into his position and performed the 
grand salam. This circumstance excited some consider- 
able alarm, when the wife of the keeper ran up to his dead 
body, and in a broken sort of exclamation, cried out that 
she was always afraid something of this sort would happen, 
as he was constantly in the habit of robbing that elephant 
of his rations of rice, by taking them away from his crib 
after they had been served out to him under the inspection 
of his superior. This anecdote is rather a staggering one, 
but I have mentioned it to many persons who have been in 
India, and most of them were no strangers to the circum- 
stance. One gentleman informed me that it was authenti- 
cally recorded in the philosophical transactions of the day, 
but this I cannot vouch for, having never searched for it. 

* I remember when at Paris, being introduced to a phy- 
sician who had fitted up a' large apartment with portraits, 
sent him by those patients whom he had recovered. This 
circumstance put me in mind of a remark of Diogenes to 
one that admired the multitude of votive-offerings in Sam- 
othracia given to the temple of Neptune by those who had 
escaped from shipwreck : * There would have been many 
more,' said Diogenes, 'if those who have perished could have 
presented theirs.' There is a Spanish story that runs thus : — 
All the physicians of Madrid were suddenly alarmed by the 



130 L A C O iV . 

caterer by retail ; nor the lawyer, his solicitor-gene- 
ral ; nor the undertaker, his master of the ward- 
robe ; nor the priest, his chamberlain and privy- 
counsellor • even his truest minion and prime syco- 
phant, the sexton, who has spent his whole life in 
hiding his bad deeds from the world, and conceal- 
ing his deformities, is at last consigned to the bed 
of clay, with his own shovel,, and this by tbe hands 
of some younger favourite, who succeeds alike to 
his salary and his sentence, his department and hid 
doom. 



The minor miseries superinduced by fashion, 
that queen of fools, can hardly be conceived by 
those who live in the present day, when common 
sense is invalidating every hour the authority of 
this silly despot, and confirming the rational dic- 
tates of comfort. The quantum of uneasiness 
forced upon us by these absurdities, was no small 
drawback from the sum total of that happiness 
allotted to the little life of man ; for small miseries, 
like small debts, hit us in so many places, and meet 
us at so many turns and corners, that what they 
want in weight they make up in number, and ren- 
der it less hazardous to stand the fire of one cannon- 
ball, than a volley composed of such a shower of 

intrusion of the ghosts of their patients ; their doors were so 
besieged by the spectres of the dead, that there was no en- 
trance for the living. It was observed that a single phy-* 
sician of no repute, and living very obscurely, was incom- 
moded with only one of these unearthly visiters ; all Madrid 
flocked to him," and he got all the fees, until his brothe* 
practitioners promulgated the unfortunate discovery, thaf 
this single ghost was. when alive, the only patient lhat eve! 
eonsnUcd him* 



bullets. It is within the recollection of very many 
of my readers, that no gentleman or lady could 
either pay or receive a visit, or go out to a dinner, 
or appear at a public party, without submitting to 
have seven or eight pounds of fat and flour worked 
into their hair* by the hands of that very industrious 
and important personage, the frizeur^ on whose 
co-operation their whole powers of locomotion 
depended, and who had so much td do that ho 
could seldom be punctual. Nothing was more 
common than for ladies at a race-ball, an election- 
invitation, or a country assize meeting, to undergo 
the tremendous operations of the frizeur on the 
evening that preceded, and to sacrifice one night's 
rest to fashion, in order that they might sacrifice 
another night to Folly. Our fair countrywomen laugh 
at the Chinese ladies, who deprive themselves of 
the use of their feet, by tight shoes and bandages 
and whose characters would be ruined if they 
were even suspected of being able to walk. But 
they themselves, by the more destructive and dan* 
gerous fashion of tight-lacing, destroy functions 
of the body far more important, not only to them- 
selves but to their offspring ; and whole troops of 
dandies^ quite as taper-waisted, and almost as mas* 
culine as their mothers, are the natural result of 
such an absurdity. If to be admired is the motive 
for such a custom, it is a rriost paradoxical mode of 
pursuing this end ; for that which is destructive of 
health, must be still more destructive of beauty, 
that beauty, in a vain effort to preserve which, the 
victims of this fashion have devoted themselves to a 
joyless youth, and a premature decrepitude. An- 
other of the minor miseries formerly imposed upon 
society by the despotism of fashion, was the neces* 



432 LACO^. 

sity of giving hrge sums, denominated vales, to a 
whole bevy of butlers, footmen, and lackeys. 
This was carried to such an excess, that no poof 
man could afford to dine with a rich one, unless he 
enclosed a guinea with his card of invitation : and 
yet this custom, more mean, if possible, than absurd, 
kept its ground until a few such men as Swift, 
Steele, and Arbuthnot, happened to itiake a discov- 
ery in terrestrial bodies, productive of more com- 
fort than any made before or since, in those that 
are celestial. After a due course of experiments, 
both synthetically and analytically pursued, they 
found out and promulgated to the world, that two 
or three friends, a joint of Welsh mutton, a bla- 
zing hearth, a bottle of old wine, and a hearty wel- 
come at home, were far better things than cold 
fricassees, colder formalities, sour liquors, and 
sourer looks abroad, saddled* moreover, with the 
penalty of running the gantlet of a whole gang of 
belaced and betasselled mendicants, who proceeded 
from the plunder of the pocket of the guest, to .their 
still more barefaced depredations on the cellar of 
their master. There is a little Italian story so much 
to my present purpose, that I shall conclude by 
relating it. A nobleman, resident at a castle, I 
think near Pisa, was about to celebrate his marriage- 
feast. All the elements were propitious except the 
ocean, which had been so boisterous as to deny 
the very necessary appendage of fish. Most pro 
videntially, however, on the very morning of the 
feast, a poor fisherman made his appearance with 
a turbot so large that it seemed to have been 
created for the occasion, * animal propter convivia 
natum?* Joy pervaded the castle, and the fisher- 
*An animal bom far ihtiber-nt-maJcing. — Pub. 



LACUN. 433 

man was ushered with his prize into the saloon, 
where the nobleman, in the presence of his visi- 
ters, requested him to put what price he thought 
proper on the fish, and it should be instantly paid 
him. ; One hundred lashes, 5 said the fisherman, 
4 on my bare back, is the price of my fish, and I 
will not bate one strand of whipcord on the bargain.' 
The nobleman and his guests were not a little 
astonished, but our chapman was resolute, and 
remonstrance was in vain. At length, the nobleman 
exclaimed : ' Well, well, the fellow is a humorist, 
and the fish we must have ; but lay on lightly, and 
let the price be paid in our presence.' After fifty 
lashes had been administered, ' Hold, hold !' ex- 
claimed the fisherman. ' I have a partner in this 
business, and it is fitting that he should receive his 
share.' ■ What ! are there two such madcaps in 
the world?' exclaimed the nobleman ; ' name him, 
and he shall be sent for instantly. 5 * You need not 
go very far for him, 1 said the fisherman ; you will 
rind him at your gate, in the shape of your own por- 
ter, who would not let me in until I promised that 
he should have the half of whatever 1 received for 
my turbot.' * Oh, oh,' said the nobleman, ' bring hiin 
lip instantly ; he shall receive his stipulated moiety 
with the strictest justice.' This ceremony being 
finished, he discharged the porter, and amply re- 
warded the fisherman. 



Happiness is that single and glorious thing 
which is the very light and sun of the whole ani- 
mated universe ; and where she is not, it were 
better that nothing should be. Without her,* wis- 

* Dr. Johnson was a^ked by a lady, what new work ha 
-was employed about. ' I am writing nothing just at present,' 
37 



4M LinuN. 

dom is but a shadow, and virtue a name ; she is 
their sovereign mistress ; for her alone they labour, 
and by her they will be paid j to enjoy her, and to 
communicate her, is the object of their efforts, and 
the consummation of their toil. 



It is with ridicule as with compassion, we do 
not like to be the solitary objects of either ; and 
whether we are laughed at or pitied, we have no 
objection to sharers, and fancy we can lessen the 
weight by dividing the load. A gentleman who 
was present at the battle of Leipsic, told me a 
humorous anecdote, which may serve to illustrate 
the above position. It will be remembered that 
our government had despatched a rocket-brigade to 
assist at that action, and that Captain Roger, a 
ery deserving young officer, lost his life in the 
commanding of it. After the signal defeat of the 
French at this memorable action, Leipsic became 
full of a mixed medley of soldiers, of all arms and 
of all nations ; of course, a great variety of coin 
was in circulation there ; a British private, who 
was attached to the rocket-brigade, and who had 
picked up a little broken French and German, went 
to the largest hotel in Leipsic, and displaying an 
English shilling to the landlord, inquired if this 
piece of coin was current there. ' Oh yes,' replied 
he, ' you may have whatever the house affords for 
that money : it passes current here at present.' Our 
fortunate Bardolph, finding himself in such corn- 
replied he. ( Well, but doctor,' said she, l if I could write like 
you, I should be always writing, merely for the pleasure of 
it.' ' Pray, madam,' retorted he, ' do you sincerely think 
that Leander swam across the Hellespont merely because 
he was fond of swimming V 



LACON, 435 

pliant quarters, called about him most lustily, and 
the most sumptuous dinner the house could afford, 
washed down by sundry bottles of the most expen- 
sive wines, was despatched without ceremony. 
On going awav he tendered at the bar the identi- 
cal shilling which the landlord had inadvertently 
led him to expect was to perform such wonders. 
The stare, the shrug, and the exclamation elicited 
from 'mine host of the garter J by such a tender, may be 
more easily conceived than expressed. An expla- 
nation, very much to the dissatisfaction of the land- 
lord, took place, who quickly found not only that no- 
thing more was likely to be got, but also that the laugh 
would be tremendously heavy against him. This 
part of the profits he had a very Christian wish to 
divide with his neighbour. Taking, therefore, his 
guest to the street-door of his hotel, he requested 
him to look over the way. ' Do you see,' said he, 
4 that large hotel opposite ? That fellow, the land- 
lord of it, is my sworn rival, and nothing can keep 
this story from his ears, in which case I shall never 
hear the last of it. Now, my good fellow, you are 
not only welcome to your entertainment, but I will 
instantly give you a five-frank piece into the bar- 
gain, if you will promise, on the word of a sol- 
dier, X% attempt the very same trick with him to- 
morrow that succeeded so w T ell with me to-day.' 
Our veteran took the money, and accepted the con- 
ditions ; but having buttoned up the silver very se- 
curely in his pocket, he took his leave of the land- 
lord with the following speech, and a bow that did 
no discredit to Leipsic. 4 Sir, I deem myself in 
honour bound to use my utmost endeavours to put 
your wishes in execution ; I shall certainly do all 
] can, but must candidlv inform von that I fear I 



430 L A CON'. 

shall not succeed, since I played the very same 
trick with that gentleman yesterday ; and it is to 
his particular advice alone that you are indebted 
for the honour of my company to-day.' 



If you see a man grossly ignorant and superficial 
on points which you do understand, be not over 
ready to give credit, on the score of character 
which he may have attained, for any great ability 
in points which you do not understand. 

Emulation looks out for merits that she may 
exalt herself by a victory , envy spies out blemishes 
that she may lower another by a defeat. 

Truth can hardly be expected to adapt herself 
to the crooked policy, and wily sinuosities of 
worldly affairs ; for truth, like light, travels only in 
straight lines. 

It is adverse to talent to be consorted and (rain- 
ed up with inferior minds, or inferior companions, 
however high they may rank. The foal of the racer 
neither finds out his speed nor calls out his powers 
if pastured out with the common herd that are des- 
tined for the collar and the yoke. 



The good people of England do all that in them 
lies to make their king a puppet ; and then, with 
their usual consistency^ detest him if he is not 
w r hat they would make him, and despise him if he is. 



He that will not permit his wealth to do any good 
to others while he is alive, prevents it from doing 
any good to himself when he is dead ; and by an 



LACO N l 43? 

egotism that is suicidal, and has a double-edge, 
cuts himself off from the truest pleasure here, and 
the highest happiness hereafter. Some fancy that 
they make all matters right by cheating their rela- 
tions, and leaving all their ill-gotten wealth to some 
public institution. I have heard a story of his 
satanic majesty, that he was one day sitting on his 
throne of state, with some of his prime ministers 
attending him, when a certain imp, just arrived 
from his mission to this nether world, appeared 
before him. i Sirrah,' said he, ' you have been 
long absent from us : what news from above V ' 
have been attending, and please your majesty, the 
deathbed of a miser, and I have put it into his head 
to leave all his immense wealth to charitable insti- 
tutions.' ' Indeed,' said the sable monarch, ' and 
call you this attending to my interest 1 I am afraid 
we shall lose him.' ' Fear not,' said the imp, ' for 
he has made no restitutions, and has also many 
starving relatives ; but if we were so unlucky, we 
are sure, after all, to be gainers, for I also instilled 
it into his mind to appoint twelve trustees, and your 
majesty may safely reckon upon every soul of them 
to a man. 



4 Omne. simile non est idem,'* is an axiom which 
men of powerful imaginations ought to keep con- 
stantly in view ; for in mental optics those do not 
always see the farthest who have mounted the 
highest, and imagination! has sometimes blinded 

* Every thing like is not the same. — Pub. 

t Wit also will sometimes bribe the judgment to a false 
decision, and make us inclined to say what is brilliant, 
rather than what is true ; and to aim at point rather than at 
propriety. Voltaire was once desired by a poet to criticise 
« tragedy he had written. He prefaced his request by say- 
37* 



438 LACON. 

the judgment, rather than sharpened its acumen. 
Minds of this kind have been beautifully compared 
to those angels described in the Revelation, who 
hid their eyes with their wings. 



Some conversions have failed, not for any want 
of faith in the convert, but for a deficiency of that 
article in the converter ; and when matters have 
been brought to the point, it has been discovered 
that the disciple was ready to perform his part of 
the ceremony, provided the master were equally so 
to perform his. I remember having somewhere 
read a story of a certain lady in Italy, who being of 
the Protestant faith, was about to be united in mar- 
riage to a papist. Great pains were taken to work 
her conversion ; at length, she consented to take 
the holy sacrament according to the ritual of the 
church of Rome, provided the m akin g-up and man- 
ufacturing of the wafer to be used on this ceremony 
were allowed her. This was granted : and when the 
priest had finished the consecration, she solemnly 
asked him if he firmly believed that the act of con- 
secration had transformed those elements into the 
real body of Christ? He replied there could not be 
the shadow of a doubt of it. ' Then,' said she, 1 1 
am ready to swallow them if you will only set me 
the example, but must candidly inform you,' added 
she, l that before the miracle of transubstantiation 

ing that he Knew the value of this philosopher's time, and 
therefore he Requested him to express his candid opinion m 
the shortest manner. Unfortunately our tragedian had 
written the single word Fin at the bottom of his piece, and 
our merciless critic confined his whole criticism merely to 
scratching out the letter 71, thus Ft. Nevertheless "the 
tragedy did not deserve so severe a sentence; but the wit 
was too great a t smptation. 



L A C O ts . 439 

had been performed on the consecrated host, tho 
principal ingredient in its composition was arsenic.' 
The monk did not deem it prudent to make a con- 
vert on such terms. 



Flattery is often a traffic of mutual meanness, 
where, although both parties intend deception, nei- 
ther are deceived ; since words that cost little, are 
exchanged for hopes that cost less. But we must 
be careful how Ave flatter fools too little, or wise 
men too much ; for the flatterer must act the very 
reverse of the physician, and administer the strong- 
est dose only to the tveakest patient. The truly 
great will bear even reproof, if truth support it, 
more patiently than flattery accompanied with false- 
hood; for, by venturing on the first, we pay a com- 
pliment to their heart, but by venturing on the 
second, we inflict an insult on their head. Two 
painters undertook a portrait of Hannibal ; one of 
them painted a full likeness of him, and gave him 
two eyes, whereas disease had deprived him of one ; 
the other painted him in profile, but with his blind 
side from the spectators. He severely reprimanded 
the first, but handsomely rewarded the second. 



Human life, according to Mandeville* and others 
vf his school, is a constant system of hypocrisy 

* If we were inclined to pun, after the manner of Swifr, 
jn the name of Mandeville, we might say that Mandeville 
<vas a devil of a man, who wrote a book to prove man a 
I evil. 

I am rather surprised to see such men as Hobbes, Ma- 
thiavelli, Mandevilie, or Spinosa, receive any attention in 
that republic which alone is fixed and free — the republic of 
letters. They carry, it is true, their own antidote ; for the 



UO L A U O N . 

acting upon hypocrisy ; a kind of double duping, 
N.liere pretenders pursue virtue that they esteem 
not, for the sake of praises which those who proffer 
value not. Thus, according to him, instead of 
feeling any gratitude for those who have lost their 
lives in the service of their country, our feelings 
ought rather to be those of pity and contempt for 
beings so weak as to permit the love of glory to 
overcome the love of life. In conformity to this 
system, he asserts that all the virtues are nothing 
more than the political offspring that flattery begets 
upon pride. Were such a system to be general, 
with Machiavelli for our tutor, and Mandeville for 
our moralist, we might indeed deny a heaven, but 
if we denied a hell, it would not be for want of a 
prototype upon earth. Mr. Hume, on the other 
hand, seems inclined to make utility the test of vir- 
tue ; and this doctrine he has urged so speciously 
as to draw after him * a third part of the host of 
heaven? Paley has been in some degree seduced, 
but Paley's authority is on the decline. If one were 
disposed to banter such a doctrine, by pursuing up 
its conclusions to the absurdities to which they 



I 



absurdity of their doctrines is usually in proportion to their 
atrocity. I would have them read, notwithstanding, and 
promulgated and examined, and would give them all possi- 
le fair play. I am certain this is the most efficacious mode 
of satisfying ourselves how much more powerful their 
names are, than their pens. I shall be told that there are 
moments when these men evince great strength of mind, 
as there are times when madmen evince great strength 01 
body; but one is the strength of error, and the other of 
disease. Nov we shut up the one, and clap a strait 
waistcoat upon him; and I would give the other all 
possible liberty, for the more they are seen and knoion* 
the fewer converts they will have, and the less mischief 
thev will do 



L A C O N . 441 

would lead us, one would say, that if a building 
were on fire, a philosopher ought to be saved in 
preference to a fool, and a steam-engine, or a loom, 
in preference to either ; no parent ought to have 
any affection or tenderness for a child that was 
dying of a disorder pronounced to be incurable ; 
and no child ought to take any trouble for a parent 
that was in a state of dotage. If we met with a 
beggar with one leg, we ought to give him nothing, 
but reserve a double alms for a beggar who had two, 
as being the most useful animal. As to religion, 
all adoration w 7 ould be transferred to the felt and 
visible source of all utility, the sun : and the religion 
of Persia would be the universal faith. Another 
mode of accounting for human actions, is self-in- 
terest ; a system that has more plausibility, and 
perhaps more proselytes than the two that precede 
it. It would indeed be very unfortunate for mankind 
if any virtuous action whatsoever could be proved 
to be detrimental to the self-interest of him who 
performed it, if the view taken of it be enlarged 
and comprehensive. And it is on this ground that 
I have asserted elsewhere, that it is much nearer 
the truth to. say that all men have an interest in 
being good, than that all men are good from inte- 
rest. Swift, in his detached thoughts, observes, that 
there are some whose seif-love inclines them to 
please others, and some whose self-love inclines 
them to please themselves ; the first he designates 
as the virtuous, and the second as the vicious. 
Rousseau* saw the difficulty of the egotistical 

* Rousseau was more fond of a paradox than Shakspeare 
of a pun, and it is seldom that any reliance can be placed 
upon his opinion, even if 'he possessed one ; thus, at the 
very Lime he was ranting about liberty, he smfered this 



442 LACOS. 

creed, and to avoid it, divides self-love into two 
orders, a higher and a lower, a sensual and a spi- 
ritual ; and labours to convince us that his highei 
order of self-interest is compatible with virtue, the 
lower not. He gives us an Hnstantia cruris?* the 
case of the juryman who was resolved rather to 
perish than permit the conviction of another man, 
for a murder which he himself had perpetrated. 
But that knowledge which is necessary, is seldom 
abstruse, and for all practical purposes, conscience 
is the best casuist, and to do as we would be done 
by, the safest rule. I believe the worst man tha© 
ever existed, never committed a bad action without 
some compunction, nor a good one without some 
delight, and he that would persuade us that both 
are indifferent, would approximate us nearer to the 
brute from our insensibility, than to the philosopher 
from our stoicism. Human nature may grovel, but 
it can also soar. We see' a man deny himself to- 
gratify others, forget himself to remember others, 
endanger himself to rescue ethers, and lastly die, 
that others may live. Are we after this to sub- 
scribe to the moralist, and write this character down 
a selfish being, because he sought all his delights 
and gratifications in being the source and the dis- 
tributor, to others, of both ? 



Death is the liberator of him whom freedom 
cannot release, the physician of him whom medi- 
cine cannot cure, and the comforter of him whom 
time cannot console. 

sentiment to escape him, in a confidential letter to a friend 
\z mon avis le sang d'un scul komme est dun plus gran pri% 
que la liberie de lout le genre fcumain.' 
* T%e experiment oj the cross. — Tvft, 



Is the Deity able to prevent evil, but not willing — 
where is his benevolence ? is he willing, but not 
able — where is his power ? is he both able and wil- 
ling — whence then is the evil ? These formidable 
questions, all resolving themselves into the ' und<: 
malum''* of the Epicureans, have been handed 
down as heirlooms from one generation of skep- 
tics to another ; a generation, that, like the family 
of the Wrongheads, can trace back its ancestry 
to the remotest antiquity, and who, like the Jews of 
the present day, are confined to no meridian, cli- 
mate, or country, but who are as obstinate in 
rejecting all creeds, as the latter are in adhering it) 
one. Whence is evil ? This is that triumphant 
question resorted to as the trustiest weapon of the 
infidel, when closely pushed ; a weapon produced 
with as much solemnity as the sword which the 
Highland chieftian exhibits as the brand of his 
forefathers, and the title to his domains,! and 
which is considered as terrible as ever, although 
the stalworth hands that formerly wielded it 
are mouldering in the dust. Whence is evil ? I 
will not presume to break a lance with this formi- 
dable champion that has foiled so many, neither 
am I quite inclined like iEneas, to escape in a 
cloud. The method I shall adopt will be to retreat 
fighting, and with my face to the foe. I admit the 
existence of evil to its full extent, and I also admit 
my own ignorance, which is not the least part of 
the evil I deplore. I also find in the midst of all 

* Whence is evil ? — Pub. 

t King James held a convocation at Perth, and demanded 
of the Scotch barons that they should produce the charters 
by which they held their lands ; they ail, with one simulta- 
neous movement, rose up and drew their swords. 



444 L A C O N . 

this evil, a tolerably fair proportion of good, i 
can discover that I did not make myself, and also 
that the being that did make me, has shown a 
degree of power and of wisdom far beyond my 
powers of comprehension. I can also see so much 
good proceeding from his system even here, 
that I am inclined to love him; but I can see so 
much evil, that I am inclined also to fear him. I 
find myself a compound being, made up of body 
and mind, and the union is so intimate, that the 
one appears to perish, at the dissolution of the 
other. In attempting to reconcile this last evil, 
death, and the many more that lead to it, with the 
wisdom, power, and goodness^ -that I see displayed 
on many other occasions, I find that I have strong 
aspirings after a state, that may survive this appa- 
rent dissolution, and I find that I have this feeling 
in common with all the rest of my species ; I 
find also, on looking within, that I have a mind 
capable of much higher delights than matter or 
earth can afford. On looking still more closely 
into myself, I find every reason to believe that this 
is the first state of existence I ever enjoyed ; I 
can recollect no other, I am conscious of no 
other. Here then I stand as upon a point acknow- 
ledged, that this world is the first stage of exist- 
ence to that compound animal man, and that it is 
to him at least the first link in that order of things 
in which mind is united to matter. May not then 
this present state, be, as relates to mind, a state of 
infancy and childhood, where the elements and 
the rudiments of a progressive state are to be 
received and acquired ; and may not such be neces- 
sarily a state of discipline ; and may not an all- 
wise and all-perfect Being* take less delight in 



L A C O N . 445 

creating stones and blocks, and in making them 
capable of eternal happiness, than in ultimately 
granting this glorious boon to creatures whom he 
had formed intellectual and responsible ? And is 
not this supposition far less absurd and monstrous, 
than to conclude the Deity unjust, and the volun- 
tary author of evil, necessary from his prescience 
that foresaw it, yet permitted it ; and gratuitous 
from his power, that could, yet would not prevent 
it 1 Having arrived at these conclusions by look- 
ing into myself, I then look to things around me, 
and without me, and I find an external state of 
^things, corresponding precisely with these internal 
conclusions. I find a mixed state and condition to 
be the lot of man ; he has much of good to enjoy, 
and much of evil to encounter, and the more or the 
less of either I observe depends in very many 
instances on himself I farther find that this is no 
particular discovery of mine, that it has struck the 
profoundest thinkers, and the justest reasoners of 
all ages, quite as forcibly, and been much better 
expressed. I farther see that a state of discipline 
naturally presupposes for its proper theatre a mixed 
state of o-ood and of evil, since a mixed state 

o ... 

alone it is, that calls many virtues into action, 
that could not be exercised in a state of perfection, 
such for instance, as benevolence in alleviating the 
miseries of others, or resignation in bearing our 
own. In short, I find it to be precisely what I con- 
ceive mind in its compound state might most natu- 
rally require, namely, a state of discipline, with 
quite enough of good to keep intellectual agents 
from despair, and quite enough of evil to keep 
them from presumption ; good also, not so independ- 
ent of our exertions, as to justify our idleness 



446 L A C O N . 

and evil not so necessary and unavoidable as to 
paralyze us with despondency. 



I have strong doubts as to the permission of 
those phenomena that have been termed supernatu- 
ral, since the era of the apostles ; and if there be 
any who think they have witnessed such things, 
they should reflect that there is this hazard in di- 
vulging them — they voluntarily wedge themselves 
up into the very awkward dilemma of being con- 
sidered either as liars or fools. To withhold our 
assent to sucli things if we have witnessed them is 
difficult; but to give our assent to them because they 
have been witnessed by others, is absurd. In this 
latter case, the reasoning of Dr. Hume w T ill apply, 
and is conclusive against all such phenomena sub- 
sequent to the era stated above ; for here, we trust 
not to experience, but to testimony, and it is con- 
trary to our experience that such superhuman ap- 
pearances should be true, but it is not contrary to 
our experience that the human testimony by which 
they are supported, should be false. I know not 
which is most detrimental to the happiness of man- 
kind : to believe in such things if they have never 
happened, or to disbelieve them if they have. But 
it is obvious that to deny them, even in opposition 
to our own experience, would savour less strongly 
of presumption, than to admit them on the bare tes- 
timony of others, would of weakness ; and the ad- 
vocates of supernatural appearances having hap- 
pened in modern times, are sure to be in the mi- 
nority, not only as to number, but also as to weight. 



Early impressions are not easily erased ; the 
virgin wax is faithful to the signet, and subsequent 



L A C X . 447 

impressions serve rather to indent the former ones, 
than to eradicate them. To change the metaphor, 
we might say thac the new cask takes its odour 
from the first wine that it receives ; what may be 
poured in afterwards will be contained, but the 
first is imbibed. Rousseau carried his envy, hatred, 
and malice, of all literary contemporaries, almost 
to phrensy. A social savage on this point, he 
recoiled as sullenly from the courtesy of Hume as 
from the caustic of Voltaire. This enigma in his 
character may be solved by recollecting, that when 
he was clerk to M. Dupin, he was not permitted to 
dine at his table on those days that the literati 
assembled there. Even then, he felt his own pow- 
ers, and despised him who, ' like* the base Judean, 
threw a pearl away richer than all his tribe? There- 
fore, he commenced his campaign with no very char- 
itable feelings for his contemporaries; ' but entered,' 
says Grimm, 'the field of literature, as Marius re- 
entered Rome, breathing revenge, and remember- 
ing the marshes of Minturnse.' 



In all places, and in ail times, those religionists 
who have believed too much, have been more 
inclined to violence and persecution than those 
who have believed too little — I suspect the reason 
is, that indifference is a much less active principle 
than enthusiasm. 

We seek the society of the ladies with a view to 
be pleased, rather than to be instructed ; and are 

* I here allude to Rousseau's appreciation of himself '; but 
he was a pearl, I should have no objection to buy at my 
price, if -I could only sell him at his own. 



448 LACON. 

more gratified by those who will talk, than by those 
that are silent ; for if they talk well, we are doubly 
delighted to receive information from so pleasant a 
source, and if they are at times a little out in their 
conclusions, it is flattering to our vanity to set 
them right. Therefore, I would have the ladies 
indulge with somewhat less of reserve in the free- 
dom of conversation, notwithstanding the remark 
of him who said with more of point than of polite- 
ness, that they were the very reverse of their own 
mirrors : for the one reflected without talking, but 
the other talked without reflecting. 



If an author write better than his contemporaries, 
they will term him a plagiarist ; if as well, a pre- 
tender ; but if worse, he may stand some chance 
of commendation, as a genius of some promise, 
from whom much may be expected by a due atten- 
tion to their good counsel and advice. When a 
dull author has arrived at this point, the best thing 
he can do for his fame, is to die before he can follow 
it ; his brother dullards will in this case club their 
efforts to confer upon him one year of immortality, 
a boon which few of them could realize for them- 
selves ; and this year of fame may be even extended 
to two, provided the candidate can be proved to 
have died on classic ground, and to have been 
buried within the verge of the meanderings of the 
Tiber, or the murmurings of the Melissus. 



A. torrent of declamation, where all is sound and 
verbiage, has often served the ends of the oppres- 
sor, and proved more fatal to the oppressed, than 
any force of argument or reason that could be 
brought against him ; as an expert swimmer is in 



LACON. 449 

more danger from the foam of the surf, than from 
the deepest water of the ocean ; for although the 
former has no profundity, it has also no buoyancy, 
neither can the voice of distress be heard amidst 
the roar of the breakers. 



The British constitution is the proudest political 
monument of the combined and progressive wis- 
dom of man : throughout the whole civilized world 
its preservation ought to be prayed for, as a choice 
and peerless model, uniting all the beauties of pro- 
portion, with all the solidity of strength. But 
nothing human is perfect, and experience has 
shown that this proud monument of human wis- 
dom wants that which its earlier designers had 
conceived that it possessed ; a self-preserving 
power. Those, therefore, are its truest friends who 
are most vigilant and unremitting in their efforts to 
keep it from corruption, and to guard it from decay ; 
whose veneration, as it regards what it has been, 
and whose affection, as it relates to what it may be, 
is exceeded only by their fears for its safety, when 
they reflect upon what it is. And it is a feeling as 
dishonourable to those who entertain it, as un- 
merited by those against whom it is entertained, to 
suspect that those hearts and hands that are most 
zealous and vigilant in preserving this beautiful 
fabric from decay, would not be equally brave and 
energetic in defending it from danger. 



It is much easier to ruin a man of principle, 
than a man of none, for he may be ruined through 
his scruples. Knavery is supple, and can bend ; 
but honesty is firm and upright, and yields not. 
It was upon this ground that Bossuet, bishop of 
38* 



450 L A CON. 

Meaux, recommended Louis the Fourteenth to 
secure the approbation of Fenelon, archbishop of 
Cambray, as to his marriage with Madame do 
Maintenon. 



A calumniator will sometimes tell truths that are 
injurious to himself, if, by doing so, he can gain 
believers as to those falsehoods which he circulates 
of another. Thus Rousseau, who had much me- 
thod in his madness, and more malice, has shown 
that his reputation was less dear to him than his 
revenge ; for he bespatters himself with infamy in 
his confessions, only to make that dirt stick the 
stronger which he accumulates upon others, and 
affects the greatest candour, only to exercise the 
greatest cruelty. 



The French revolution* was a machine invented 
and constructed for the purpose of manufacturing 
liberty ; but it had neither lever-clogs, nor adjust- 
ing powers, and the consequences were, that it 
worked so rapidly that it destroyed its own inven- 
tors, and set itself on fire. 

*That France, having no materials to work with, but 
such as could be found in the heads of Frenchmen, should 
merge into a military despotism, required no prophet to 
foretel. Bonaparte said that on his return from Egypt, he 
found the constitution in abeyance, and the crown upon 
the ground. He stooped down and picked it up. He had 
not, like Washington, the courage to spurn the glittering 
bauble, but he had the heart to make despotism palatable. — 
He gave to Frenchmen conquest in the room of freedom : 
and while he contracted their liberties, enlarged their pri- 
son; hoi ling out to them this compensation, ' You shall be 
matters of Europe, but my slaves l } 



LACO^. 451 

Metaphysicians have been learning their lesson 
for the last four thousand years, and it is high time 
that they should now begin to teach us something. 
Can any of the tribe inform us why all the opera- 
tions of the mind are carried on with undiminished 
strength and activity in dreams, except the judg- 
ment, which alone is suspended and dormant ? 
This faculty of the mind is in a state of total inef- 
ficiency during dreams ; let any man carefully ex- 
amine his own experience on this subject, and he 
will find that the most glaring incongruities of time, 
the most palpable contradictions of place, and the 
grossest absurdities of circumstance, are most 
glibly swallowed down by the dreamer, without the 
slightest dissent or demurrage of the judgment. 
The moment we are wide awake, the judgment 
reassumes her functions, and shocks us with sur- 
prise at a credulity that even in sleep could recon- 
cile such a tissue of inconsistencies. I remember 
that on conversing on this subject with a gentleman 
of no mean acquirement, he informed me of a curi- 
ous circumstance with respect to himself. He 
dreamed that he saw the funeral of an intimate friend, 
and in the continuation of the same dream, he met 
his dead friend walking in the streets, to whom he 
imparted the melancholy tidings without experien- 
cing, at the time, the remotest feeling as to the mon- 
strous absurdity of the communication ; neither 
was his conviction of that event shaken, in the 
slightest degree, until he awoke, by this astounding 
proof of its falsehood. The only plausible account 
that offers itself to my mind, as to the phenomenon 
of this suspension of the judgment, seems to be 
this : all dreams are a piece of vivid painting to the 
mind's eye : we clearly see all that we dream about ; 



452 LACON. 

lucre is no doubt, and of course no reasoning, for 
the panorama is before us, and all its subjects are 
ocula subjectafidelibus* As all dreams, so far as I 
can recollect my own, or find out by inquiring of 
others, seem to be produced by vivid paintings on 
the mind's eye, it would be a matter of very curious 
inquiry of what forms, shapes, or figures are the 
dreams of those composed who have been born 
blind ; do they ever dream? and if they do, can 
they explain what they have been dreaming about, 
by any reference to outward objects which they 
have never seen 1 I merely suggest those hints for 
the use of those who have leisure and opportunity 
for such investigations. 



It is curious that some learned dunces, because 
they can write nonsense in languages that are 
dea'd, should despise those that talk sense in lan- 
guages that are living. 'To acquire a few tongues/ 
says a French writer, ' is the task of a few years, 
but to be eloquent in one, is the labour of a life ' 



In writing, w T e should be careful to introduce no 
arguments that are controvertible ; arguments are 
like soldiers, it is better to have a few who, like the 
Spartans at Thermopylae, are capable of defending 
a post, than a number like those myriads of Per- 
sians that accompanied Xerxes, and that served 
only to swell the triumph and augment the fame of 
the victor. There is another reason why we should 
be careful to have a c corps elite* of good argu- 
ments, rather than to increase their number by an 
addition of any that are weak, which is this : our 

* Laid before the faithful eyes. — Pub. 



LACON. 453 

adversary will riot fail to reply to those that are 
weak, and, by overcoming them, will take the credit, 
and often gain it too, of having conquered those 
that are strong ; for, as in fortifications, extended 
works are seldom without some points that are 
weak, so in controversy, multiplied arguments are 
seldom without some positions that are indefensi 
ble. In conversation also, no less than in writing, 
a rule somewhat similar to that insisted on above, 
might be recommended, if we would wish wholly 
to avoid the caustic sarcasm uttered by Bentley to 
one whose tongue, like the racehorse, went the 
faster the less weight it carried, namely, that he 
showed his learning to the ignorant, but his igno- 
rance to the learned. In fact, if men would confine 
their talk to those subjects only which they under- 
stand, that which St. John informs us took place 
once in heaven, would happen very frequently on 
earth, ' silence for the space of half an hour.'' Hal- 
ley, the great mathematician, dabbled not a little in 
infidelity ; he was rather too fond of introducing this 
subject; and once when he had descanted some- 
what freely on it in the presence of his friend Sir 
Isaac Newton, the latter cut him short with this 
observation : ' I always attend to you, Dr. Halley, 
with the greatest deference when you do us the 
honour to converse on astronomy or the mathe- 
matics, because they are subjects that you have 
industriously investigated, and which you well 
understand ; but religion is a subject on which I 
always hear you with pain, because this is a sub- 
ject which you have not seriously examined, and 
do not comprehend ; you despise it because you 
have not studied it, and you will not study it 
because you despise it, 5 



454 LAGON. 

To euro us of our immoderate love of gain, we 
should seriously consider how many goods there 
are that money will not purchase, and these the 
best; and how many evils there are that money will 
not remedy, and these the worst. An ancient phi- 
losopher of Athens, where the property of the 
wealthy was open to the confiscations of the 
informer, consoled himself for the loss of his for- 
tune by the following reflection : r I have lost my 
money, and with it my cares ; for when I was rich, 
I was afraid of every poor man, but now that I am 
poor, every rich man is afraid of me.' 



A thorough-paced knave will rarely quarrel with 
one whom he can cheat. His revenge is plunder ; 
therefore he is usually the most forgiving of beings, 
upon the principle that if he come to an open rup- 
ture, he must defend himself, and this does not suit 
a man whose vocation it is to keep his hands in the 
pockets of another. 



Ladies of fashion starve their happiness to feed 
their vanity, and their love to feed their pride. 



Great wits who pervert their talents to sap the 
foundation of morality, have to answer for all the 
evil that lesser wits may accomplish through their 
means, even to the end of time. A heavy load of 
responsibility, where the mind is still alive to do 
mischief, when the hand it animated is dust. Men 
of talent may make a breach in morality at which 
men of none may enter ; as a citadel may be carried 
by muskets after a road has been battered out for 
them by cannon. 



LACON. 455 

There is this of good in real evils* they deliver us 
while they last from the petty despotism of all that 
were imaginary. 



There are many moral Actseons who are as miser 
ably devoured by objects of their own choosing, as 
was the fabulous one by his own hounds. 



He that threatens us, not having the power to 
harm us, would perhaps do so if he could ; but he 
that threatens, having the power, is not much to be 
feared. A man in a paroxysm of passion may ex- 
claim : ' I would stab you if I had a sword !' and 
perhaps he would be as good as his word ; but he 
that has a sword, will either use it without threaten- 
ing, or threaten without using it. 



Women of superior acquirements, and of ster- 
ling qualifications, if they can so far forget them- 
selves as to envy pretty fools the little attentions 
they receive from prating coxcombs, act as ab- 
surdly as if they were to begrudge the fry her 
paramour, or the moth her may. Madame de 
Stael, however, has often been heard to say that 
she would gladly have exchanged all the brightest 
qualities of the mind for that which niggard nature 
had denied her, the perishable but attractive beau- 
ties of the body. A sentiment, after all, more dis- 
creditable perhaps to our sex than to herself. 



A man who succeeds to his father's reputation, 
must be greater than him to be considered as 
great ; but he that succeeds to his father's riches, 
will have to encounter no such deduction. The 
popular opinion adds to our means, but diminishes 



456 L A C N. 

our merits ; and it is not an unsafe rule to believe 
less than you hear with respect to a man's fortune, 
and more than you hear with respect to his fame. 



Could any nostrum be discovered that would 
considerably lengthen the life of man, this specious 
good would be a real evil to the best interests of 
humanity, first, by diminishing the value of the 
reversions of virtue, by postponing the period of 
their realization ; and secondly, by giving longevity 
to the development, and permanence to the pros- 
perity of vice. 



Extemporaneous and oral harangues will always 
have this advantage over those that are read from 
a manuscript. Every burst of eloquence or spark 
of genius they may contain, however studied they 
may have been beforehand, will appear to the 
audience to be the effect of the sudden inspiration 
of talent. Whereas similar efforts, when written, 
although they might not cost the writer half the 
time in his closet, will never be appreciated as any 
thing more than the slow efforts of long study and 
laborious application ; ' olebunt oleum, etsi non 
oleant ;'* and this circumstance it is that gives such 
peculiar success to a pointed reply, since the hear- 
ers are certain, in this case, that the eloquence 
arises ex re nata, and that the brilliancy has been 
elicited from the collision of another mind, as 
rapidly as the spark from the steel. 

There can be no Christianity where there is no 
charity ; but the censorious cultivate the forms of 

* They will smell of oil, though they contain none. — Ptia. 



LAC ON. 457 

religion, 'that they may more freely indulge in the 
only pleasure of their lives, that of calumniating 
those, who to their other failings add not the sin of 
hypocrisy. But hypocrisy can beat calumny even 
at her own weapons, and can feign forgiveness, 
while she feels resentment and meditates revenge. 



Those who take their opinion of women from 
the reports of a rake, will be no nearer the truth 
than those who take their opinions of men from 
the lips of a prostitute. 



He that knowingly defends the wrong side of a 
question, pays a very bad compliment to all his 
hearers : it is in plain English this : ' Falsehood, 
supported by my talents, is stronger than truth sup- 
ported by yours.' 

The horrible catastrophes that sometimes happen 
to the vicious, are as salutary to others by their 
warning, as the most brilliant rewards of the vir- 
tuous are by their example. And, on the contrary, 
the successes of the bad, and the sufferings of the 
good, might make us tremble for the interests of 
virtue, were not these very things the strongest 
proofs of an hereafter. 



The upright, if he suffer calumny to move him, 
fears the tongue of man more than the eye of God. 



The secret of some men's attractions might be 
safely told to all the world ; for under any other 
management but that of the possessor, they would 
cease to attract. Those who attempted to imitate 
them, would find that thev had got the llddle, 
39 



458 LACO N . 

but not the fiddlestick; the puppet-show; but riot 

punch. 



How happens it that all men envy us our wealth, 
but that no man envies us our health 1 The reason 
perhaps is this : it is very seldom that we can lose 
our wealth without some one being the better for 
it, by gaining that which we have lost ; but no one 
is jealous of us on account of our health, because 
if we were to lose that, this would be a loss that 
betters no one. 

Some men are very entertaining for a first inter- 
view, but after that they are exhausted, and run 
out ; on a second meeting we shall find them very 
flat and monotonous; like hand-organs, we have 
heard all their tunes ; but unlike those instruments, 
they are not new-barrelled so easily. 



He that has energy enough in his constitution to 
root out a vice, should go a little farther, and try to 
plant a virtue in its place ; otherwise he will have 
his labour to renew ; a strong soil that has produced 
weeds, may be made to produce wheat w T ith far 
less difficulty than it would cost to make it produce 
nothing. 

Would morality suffer more from a philosopher 
who, like Arcesilaus, decried it by his words, but 
supported it by his deeds ; or from him who, like 
Aristippus, gave sobriety his praise, but sensuality 
hLs practice ? Some preceptors, perceiving this 
dilemma, have run upon both the horns of it, in 
endeavouring to escape them, and have taught us 



L A G O N . 459 

what we ought to do by their precept, and what 
we ought not to do by their example* 

When we are in the company of sensible men, 
we ought to be doubly cautious of talking too much, 
lest we lose two good things,, their good opinion 
and our own improvement, and disclose one thing 
which had better have been concealed, our self- 
sufficiency ; for what we have to say we know, 
but what they have to say, we know not. 



Pride either finds a desert, or makes one ; sub- 
mission cannot tame its ferocity, nor satiety fill iu 
voracity, and it requires very costly food — its 
keeper's happiness. 



Love is an alchymist that can transmute poison 
into food — and a spaniel, that prefers even punish- 
ment from one hand, to caresses from another. 
But it is in love, as in war, we are often more 
indebted for our success to the weakness of the 
defence, than to the energy of the attack ; for 
mere idleness has ruined more women than pas- 
sion, vanity more than idleness, and credulity more 
than either. 



Calumny crosses oceans, scales mountains, and 
traverses deserts, with greater ease than the Scy- 
thian Abaris, and like him, rides upon a poisoned 
arrow. 



It is pleasant enough for a by-stander who hap- 
pens to be in the secret, to note the double decep- 
tion, and the reciprocal hypocrisy that is constantly 
going on between the young and the old, in this 



460 LAC ON. 

wicked and transitory world. The young are con- 
stantly paying every kind of attention to the old, 
without feeling the slightest esteem, and the old 
are as constantly levying the discount of their post 
obits from the young without intending the smallest 
remuneration. I remember a rich old gentleman 
at college, who constantly calculated the state of 
his health by the rise and fall of these mercenary 
attentions. Some little time before he died, his 
physician would fain have persuaded him that he 
was much better ' it would not do, he had just dis- 
covered,' he said, 'six fatal symptoms in his own 
case, — three presents, and three visits in one day 
from his dear friend Mr. H. 



Evils in the journey of life, are like the hills 
which alarm travellers upon their road ; they both 
appear great at a distance, but when we approach 
them, we find that they are far less insurmountable 
than we had conceived. 



If a man could make gold, he would incur a 
double danger, first from his own avarice, and 
secondly from the avarice of other men. The 
first would make him a slave, or the second a p)i- 
soner ; for princes and potentates would think a 
goldmaker a very convenient member of their 
exchequer ; and as there would be very little chance 
of his dismissal, they would take care that he 
should not enjoy a sinecure place . 

In the preface to Lacon, 1 have observed that 
there are but two modes to obtain celebrity in au- 
thorship, discovery, or conquest. Discovery, by 
saying what non«? others hare said, with this pro- 



L A C O N . 461 

viso, that it be true as well as new ; and conquest, 
by saying what others have said, but with more 
point, brevity and brightness. To demand that any 
writer, be his powers or calibre what it may, 
should avail himself of no materials whatever, ex- 
cept those that arise out of his own resources and 
invention, is as unjust and extravagant as it would 
be to insist that a Michael Angelo or a Canova 
should have no credit for a statue because they did 
not create* the block of marble from which it was 
produced. 



1 Quies dulce est digito monstrari et dicier hie est?\ 
Pericles overrated the paltry distinction, if he 
were so pleased as we are told he was, by being 
pointed out to a stranger in the streets of Athens ; 
for the very same thing happens every day in Lon- 
don to Cribb the champion. Yet London is a far 
superior city to Athens, and Cribb a far inferior 
man to Pericles. 

There are some horses full of figure, that bend 
the knee, plant the hoof, and throw in their haunches 
to admiration, but with all these qualifications they 
possess little or no speed, cannot carry weight, 
and when put to the proof, are hollow beat by 

* Readers of taste and candour will perceive the drill: of 
ihis article, and apply it, if not according to my hopes, 
assuredly according to my deserts. I am certain it is a 
very easy thing to find fault with a work embracing so 
many topics as this which I have attempted, and I am as 
tertain that it would be a very useful thing to produce 
lomething similar, but superior ; I shall most freely for- 
glvr the one, to those who* shall accomplish the other. 

■f . 7^ whom His sweet, 

When gazers pointing, whisper, l It is he.' — PtJB. 
39* 



462 LAGOK. 

steeds of far less showy acquirements. By the 
gentlemen on the turf, knowing in horseflesh, these 
animals are significantly termed fiat-catchers. This 
term should not be monopolized by quadrupeds ; 
and there is a large room in the vicinity of West- 
minster, where some bipeds may be both heard and 
seen, who, as they possess all the qualities stated 
above, ought not be denied the designation. 



Some men commence life in a career of honesty, 
but meet with so many disappointments that they 
are obliged to disrobe themselves of their conscience 
for fear it should grow as threadbare as their coat, 
' Declinant cursus, aurumque volubile tollunt.' 1 * This 
is a degradation that will happen to most men whose 
principles are rooted only on earth, unrefreshed by 
the dews of heaven. Such men begin well, but 
end ill ; like a certain lawyer who, on being asked 
why he defended so many bad causes, replied that 
he did so because he had lost so many good ones. 



It has often struck me that most of those argu- 
ments which are adduced as pregnant with conso- 
lation under our misfortunes, are not an alleviation 
but an aggravation of our ills, and that they derive 
what, little efficacy they possess, solely from our 
selfishness. Thus, if our friends can prove to us 
that the calamity under which we labour is what 
all are liable to, that none will in the end be 
exempted from it, and that many others are now 
actually suffering under it ; these melancholy tru- 

* They *kun the race } and snatch the slippery gold. — PujB. 



L A C N . m 

isrns, which arc so constantly urged as matters bf 
consolation, ought rather, to a benevolent mind, to 
be a matter of regret, unless indeed we have the 
feelings of a Herod, who ordered many noble Jews 
to be executed at his death, that he might make 
sure of some companions in calamity. There 
would indeed be something in such reasoning, if it 
could be proved that an evil is diminished in weight 
by being put on many shoulders ; but if life is a 
campaign where no man's knapsack is one jot the 
lighter because his comrade bears one too. My 
fever is not diminished, because I sutler it in an 
hospital, nor my plague, because I linger in a laza- 
retto. Because thousands have died in the bloom 
of youth, I am not the less unwilling to undertake 
the same journey in the maturity of manhood. If 
indeed my friends cite instances of those who have 
borne calamities similar to my own, with fortitude 
and resignation, this indeed is a proper topic on 
which to insist, and we have a right to rejoice, 
not because they had the same calamities^ but 
because they have borne them well. But after all, 
I fear it must be admitted that our self-love is too 
apt to draw some consolation even from so bitter a 
source as the calamities of others ; and I am the 
more inclined to think so when I consider the con- 
verse of this proposition, and reflect on whattakes 
place within us with respect to our pleasures. 
The sting of our pains is diminished, by the assu- 
rance that they are common to all; but from feel- 
ings equally egotistical, it unfortunately happens 
that the zest and relish of our pleasures is height- 
ened by the contrary considerationmamely that they 
are confined to ourselves. This conviction it are that 
tickles the palate of the epicure, that inflames the 



164 LAC ON. 

ardour of the lover, that lends ambition her ladder, 
and extracts the thorns from a crown 



Many books require no thought from those who 
read them, and for a very simple reason ; — they 
made no such demand upon those who wrote them. 
Those works therefore are the most valuable, that 
set our thinking faculties in the fullest operation. 
For as the solar light calls forth all the latent pow- 
ers and dormant principles of vegetation contained 
in the kernel, but which, without such a stimulus, 
would neither have struck root downwards, nor 
borne fruit upwards, so It is with the light that is 
intellectual : it calls forth and awakens into energy 
those latent principles of thought in the minds of 
others, which without this stimulus, reflection would 
not have matured, nor examination improved, nor 
action imbodied. 

There is only one circumstance in which tho 
upright man will imitate the hypocrite ; I mean in 
his attempts to conciliate the good opinion of his 
fellow-men. But here the similarity must cease, 
for their respective motives are wider than the poles 
asunder; the former will attempt this to increase 
his power of doing good, the latter to augment his 
means of doing harm. 



Words are in this respect like water, that they 
often take their taste, flavour, and character, from 
the mouth out of which they proceed, as the water 
from the channels through which it flows. Thus 
were a spendthrift to discourse of generosity with 
a miser, a demagogue to declaim on public good to 
a patriot, or a bigot to define truth to a philoso- 



LAC07C. 465 

pher, ought we u> wonder if the respective parties 
mutually mis under stood each other, since on these 
particular terms, each is his own lexicographer, and 
prefers his own etymologies to the industry of a 
Skinner, the real learning of a Junius, or the 
assumed authority of a Johnson ? 

Philosophy is a bully that talks very loud, when 
the danger is at a distance, but the moment she is 
hard pressed by the enemy, she is not to be found 
at her post, but leaves the brunt of the battle to bo 
borne by her humbler, but steadier comrade, Reli- 
gion, whom on all other occasions she affects to 
despise. 

There are many that despise half the world ; but 
if there be any that despise the whole of it. it is 
because the other half despises them. 



The man of pleasure should more properly be 
termed the man of pain ; like Diogenes, he pur- 
chases repentance at the highest price, and sells 
the richest reversion for the poorest reality 



Who for the most part are they, that would have 
all mankind look backwards instead of forwards, 
and regulate their conduct by things that have been 
done ? Those who are the most ignorant as to all 
things that are doing. Lord Bacon said, time is 
the greatest of innovators; he might also have said, 
the greatest of improvers ; and I like Madame de 
StaePs observation on this subject, quite as well as 
Lord Bacon's ; it is this : ' that past, which is so 
presumptuously brought forward as a precedent for 
the present, was itself founded on ?,r\ alteration of 



mS LACON. 

some past that went before it ;' and yet there are 
not a few grown children of the present day, that 
would blubber and pout at any attempt to deliver 
them from the petticoat government and apron- 
string security of their good great grandmother- — 
Antiquity. 

There is a hardihood of effrontery, which will, 
under many circumstances, supply the place of 
courage, as impudence has sometimes passed cur- 
rent for wit. Wilkes had much of the first, and 
Mirabeau of the second. He received challenge 
after challenge, but unlike Wilkes, he accepted 
none of them, and contented himself with merely 
noting down the names of the parties in his pocket- 
book. ' It is not fair/ he would say, 'that a man of 
talent, like myself, should be exposed to blockheads 
like these/ It would seem that he had argued 
himself into the same kind of self-importance with 
Rousseau, who came to this very disinterested 
conclusion, that it was incumbent upon him to take 
the utmost possible care of Jean Jacques for the 
good of society. 

We devote the activity of our youth to revelry, 
and the decrepitude of our age to repentance ; and 
we finish the farce by bequeathing our dead bodies 
to the chancel, which, when living, we interdicted 
from the church. 

Charles Fox said that restorations were the most 
bloody of all revolutions ; and he might have added, 
that reformations are the best mode of preventing 
the necessity of either. 



LACON. 467 

Some men will admit of only two sorts of excel- 
lence, that which they can equal, and what they 
term a still higher, that which they can surpass ; 
as to those efforts that beat them, they would deny 
the existence of such, rather than acknowledge 
their own defeat. They are dazzled by the rays 
of genius, and provoked at their inability to arrive 
at it ; therefore, like those idolators that live too 
far from the temple, they form and fashion out a 
little leaden image of their own, before which they 
fall down and worship. 



Age and love associate not ; if they are ever 
allied, the firmer the friendship, the more fatal is 
its termination ; and an old man, like a spider,* 
can never make love, without beating his own 
deathwatch. 



The interests of society often render it expedient 
not to utter the whole truth, the interests of science 
never : for in this field we have much more to fear 
from the deficiency of truth, than from its abun- 
dance. Some writers, and even on subjects the 
most abstruse, write so as to be understood by 
others ; firstly, because they understand them- 
selves,and secondly, because they withhold nothing 
from the reader, but give him all that they them- 
selves possess. For I have before observed, that 
clear ideas are much more likely to produce clear 
expressions, than clear expressions are tQ call out 

* It may not be generally known that the male spider is 
supplied with a little bladder, somewhat similar to a drum, 
and that ticking noise which has been termed the death- 
watch, is nothing more than the sound he makes upon his 
little apparatus, m order to serenade and allure hismistrett. 



4*8 L A C O N. 

clear ideas, but to minds of the highest order, these 
two things are reciprocally to each other, both 
cause and effect, producing an efficiency in mind, 
somewhat similar to momentum in machinery 
where the weight imparts continuation to the velo- 
city, and the velocity imparts power to the weight. 
In science, therefore, the whole truth must be told. 
The boldest political writer of the last century was 
once asked by a friend of his, a brother author in 
the bargain, how it happened that whatever came 
from his pen excited so great a sensation, and was 
instantly read by every one, ' whereas/ added his 
friend, ' when I write any thing no such effects are 
discernible.' 'Sir', said the former in reply, 4 if I were 
to take a shoe, and cut it longitudinally, into two 
equal parts, and then show one of the parts so cut, 
to a savage, and ask him what it was intended for, 
he would twist it and turn it about in all directions, 
and presently hand it back again to me, saying he 
was quite puzzled, and could not say for what it was 
meant ; but if I were to show the same savage the 
whole shoe, instead of the half one, he would 
instantly reply that it was meant for the foot. And 
this is the difference between you and me — you 
show people half the truth, and nobody knows 
what it is meant for ; but I show them the whole of 
the truth, and then every body knows that it is 
meant for the head? 

When articles rise, the consumer is the first that 
suffers, and w r hen they fall, he is the last that gains 

Bed* is a bundle of paradoxes : we go to it with 

* As a proof that indulgence in bed has a two-fold ten- 
dency to shorten life, I shall here observe thai Sir John 



l s o o 8 . 4m 

reluctance, yet we quit it with regret : and we make 
lip our minds every night to leave it early, but we 
make up our bodies every morning to keep it late. 



* Everte'rc Uoirrtis totas 'dpfanlvbus ipsix, 
DiifacrlttS 

Nothing is more frequent than the verification of 
this line ofihe satirist ; and our history is little more 
than an exemplification of the truth it contains. With 
toil and trouble, danger and difficulty, we pass our 
lives either in pursuing evil, under the semblance 
<of good, or of fieeing good, under the semblance 
<?f evil ; desiring that which wo ought to dread, 

Sinclair, in his remarks on longevity, discovered that it was 
incompatible with every walk of life, with every profession, 
habit, or occupation, save and except the peculiar cases of 
those engaged in manufactories of articles of a deleterious 
and destructive nature; as, for instance, the oxydizing of 
some of the metals. Old men, it would seem, were to be 
found amongst those who had travelled and those who had 
never been out of their own parish. Excess could produce 
her veterans, no less than temperance, since some had kept 
off the grim tyrant by jibations of wine, as successfully as 
others by potations of water, and some, oy copious applica- 
tions of brandy and of gin, seem to have kept off their 
summons to the land of spirits. In short, it appeared that 
many, who agreed in scarcely any thing else, agreed in 
having attained longevity. But there were only two ques- 
tions, in which they all agreed, and these two questions, 
when put, were always answered in the affirmative, by the 
oldest of those Greenwich and Chelsea pensioners to whom 
they were proposed. The questions were thus: were you 
descended from parents of good stamina 1 and, have you been 
in the habit of early rising? Early rising, therefore, no* 
only gives us more.lifc in the same number of our years, 
but adds likewise to their number: and not only feiabfe* 
us to enjoy more of existence in the same measure of lime, 
but increases also her measure. 
40 



470 L A G O !ST . 

and dreading that which we ought to desire ; em* 
bracing that which turns out a torment, and avoid- 
ing that which would become a cure. The reason 
is to be found in our own vanity, which dictates 
unto us, that we are wiser than nature, or nature's 
God ; who nevertheless can humble us in spite of 
J all our pride, foil us in spite of all our wisdom, but 
* who can also, in spite of all our presumption, pardon, 
and in spite of all our folly, save us. Pilgrimages 
were performed, masses were muttered, and solemn 
supplications made, to ensure a male heir to the 
second James : the prayers of the righteous pre* 
vailed, and no true Catholic doubted of the cause. 
But what was the consequence 1 this heir, the ob- 
ject of the father's fondest hopes, and fervent 
prayers, proved his ruin ; for this event united the 
whole kingdom in the firmness of despair against 
the monarch. The nation was prepared to tolerate 
a Catholic ascendency for the life of James ■, but 
they now saw in the gift of an heir, all hopes of a 
Protestant succession blasted and withered before 
their eyes ; the people rallied and the monarch 
fled. If we were inclined to come nearer to our 
own times, for an elucidation of the positions stated 
above, we might affirm that a matrimonial con- 
nexion with the proudest and the oldest dynasty in 
Europe, was an event which Napoleon might have 
been at first suspected to have indulged in, rather 
as a gaudy creature of his imagination, than either 
the legitimate object of his ambition, or the attain- 
able idol of his hope. It was realized ; but our 
adventurer soon found, like him who sighed ior 
Juno, that in possessing himself x>f the royal dame, 
he h^fl embraced a cloud, fraught with darkness 



LAC ON. 471 

that eclipsed his glory, and thunders that destroyed 
his throne. The creature and the champion of a 
new order of things, when he deserted that cause, 
he was nothing ; suspected by his old associates, 
and despised by his new ones, he was wrong when 
he told an English nobleman at Elba, that he owed 
his downfall to one thing alone, ' that of having 
given kings credit for gratitude ;' a simpler cause 
might have been assigned, that of not having given 
Frenchmen credit for memory. 



That state of imperturbility affected by some 
of the ancients, and particularly by those of the 
school of Zeno, is more likely to make men stocks 
and stones, than saints or seraphs ; and to root 
hem more deeply in earth, rather than to exalt 
hem to heaven. For it is far more easy not to feel, 
•ban always to feel rightly, and not to act, than 
always to act well. He that is determined to ad- 
mire only that which is beautiful, imposes a much 
harder task upon himself, than he that being de- 
termined not to see that which is the contrary, 
effects it, by simply shutting his eyes. 



Are the interests of science best promoted by a 
monarch, who, like the fourteenth Louis, rewards 
the efforts of science without enjoying them, or by 
one who, like the second Charles, has taste to 
enjoy her efforts, but not liberality to reward them ? 
It is well when both the taste to appreciate, and 
the inclination to encourage, are united in a royal 
hend ; they form the brightest jewels in the dia* 
d« *i, each giving and receiving lustre from each. 



472 L A Q O N . 

' Vox Populi, Vox Dei.' The voice of the 
people is the voice of God. This axiom has mani- 
fold exceptions, and ' Populus vult decipi,^ is some- 
times much nearer the truth ; Horace was of the 
same opinion, when he extolled that inflexible 
integrity which w^as not to be influenced by the 
- < Civium ardor prava juhentium?\ The fury of the 
citizens insisting: on that which was wrr^g. But 
this voice of the people has not only been violent 
where it was wrong, but weak and inefficient where 
it w r as right ; for the million, though they are some- 
times as strong as Samson, are also as blind. It 
happens, that most of those great events, which 
have been pregnant with consequences of the 
highest import to aftertimes, have been carried 
not with the voice of the people, but against it ; 
they have been carried by active and enlightened 
minorities, having the means, in open contradiction 
to the will and the wishes of the majority. These 
political and moral whirlwinds, eventually produc- 
tive of good, have proceeded in direct opposition to 
the breath of public opinion, as thunderclouds 
against the wind. But to show the truth of the 
position stated above, that popular opinion has been 
but weak and inefficient, even when it was right, I 
might, without danger of being contradicted, affirm, 
that if heads could have been fairly counted. Socra- 
tes would not have been sacrificed in Athens, nor 
Charles in England, nor Lewis in France ; Rome 
would not have been deluged in blood by proscrip- 
tions at the instigation of a cruel triumvirate,, who 
met to sacrifice friendship at the shrine of revenge , 

* The people lovt to he deceived. — Pun. 

t The Jury of the. riot, ever demanding irhaf. t> v'ro?ig,—Tvu 



LACON. 473 

neither would Paris have been disgraced by judi- 
cial murders, conducted by such a wretch as 
Robespierre, who had nothing brave about him 
but the boldness with which he believed in the 
want" of that quality in others. These things are, 
if possible, more degrading to the people that per- 
mit them, than to the parties that perform them, 
and that era which was termed the reign of terror, 
has been more fitly designated as ' the reign of 
cowardice? 

It has been asked whether we are in the dotage, 
or the infancy of science. A question that involves 
its own answer ; not in the infancy, because we 
have learnt much ; not in the dotage, because wa 
have much to learn. The fact is, we are in a 
highly progressive state of improvement; and it 
is astonishing, in how geometrical a ratio the march 
of knowledge proceeds. Each new discovery 
affords fresh light to guide us to the exploration of 
another, until all the dark corners of our ignorance 
are visited by the rays. Things apparently obscure, 
have ultimately illustrated even those that are obvi- 
ous ; thus the alchymist, in his very failures, has 
enlightened the chymist ; and the visionary astro- 
loger, though constantly false in his prophecies, 
as to those little events going on upon the earth, 
has enabled the astronomer truly to predict those 
great events that are taking place in the heavens. 
Thus it is that one experiment diffuses its sparks 
for the examination of a second, each assisting 
each, and all the whole. Discussion and invests 
gation are gradually accomplishing that for the 
intellectual light, which refraction and reflection 
have ever done for the solar ; and it is now neither 



474 LiCON, 

hopeless nor extravagant to anticipate that glorious 
era, when truth herself shall have climbed the 
zenith of her meridian, and shall refresh the nations 
with her ' day-spring from on high J 



Nations will more readily part with the essen- 
tials, than with the forms of liberty ; and Napoleon 
might have died, an emperor in reality, if he had 
been contented to have lived a consul in name. 
Had Cromwell displayed his hankerings for royalty 
somewhat sooner than he did, it is not improbable 
that he would have survived his power. Mr. Pitt 
gained a supremacy in this country, which none of 
his predecessors dared to hope, and which none of 
his successors will, I trust, attempt to attain. For 
twenty years, he was ' de facto/ not 'de jure/ a 
king, But he was wise in his generation, and took 
care to confine the swelling stream of his ambition 
to channels that were constitutional; and with 
respect to the impurity, the filth, and the corruption 
of those channels, he trusted to the vast means he 
possessed of alarming the weak, blinding the acute, 
bribing the mercenary, and intimidating the bold : 
confiding his own individual security to that self- 
ishness inherent in our nature, which dictates to 
the most efficient mind, to have too much respect 
for itself to become a Catiline, and too little esteem 
for others to become a Cato. There was a short 
period in the Roman history when that nation enjoy- 
ed as much liberty as is compatible with the infirmi- 
ties of humanity. Their neighbours, the Athenians, 
had much of the form, but little of the substance 
of freedom ; disputers about this rich inheritance, 
rather than enjoyers of it, the Athenians treated 
liberty, as schismatics religion, where the true 



LACON. 475 

benefits of both, have been respectively lost 

to each, by their rancorous contentions about 
them. 



It is a dangerous experiment to call in gratitude 
as an ally to love. Love is a debt, which inclina- 
tion always pays, obligation never ; and the mo- 
ment it becomes lukewarm and evanescent, remi- 
niscences on the score of gratitude serve only to 
smother the flame by increasing the fuel. 

Subtlety will sometimes give safety, no less 
than strength ; and minuteness has sometimes 
escaped, where magnitude would have been crush- 
ed. The little animal that kills the Boa, is for- 
midable chiefly from its insignificance, which is 
incompressible by the folds of its antagonist. 



It would be better for society if the memory of 
the giver were transferred to the receiver, and the 
oblivious forgetfulness of the obliged were con- 
signed to the breast of him that confers the obli- 
gation. 

The pride of ancestry is a superstructure of the 
most imposing height, but resting on the most 
flimsy foundation. It is ridiculous enough to 
observe the liauteur with which the old nobility 
look down on the new. The reason of this puzzled 
me a little, until I began to reflect that most titles 
are respectable, only because they are old ; if new, 
they would be despised, because all those who 
now admire the grandeur of the stream, would see 
nothing but the impurity of the source. But a 
government that is pure and paternal, confers the 



476 LACON. 

highest value, even on the cheapest things, simply 
by the mode of bestowing them : while a govern- 
ment that is selfish and corrupt, renders the most 
precious things the most despicable, by a base and 
unworthy appropriation. The wearer of the mural 
wreath or civic crown, would feel degraded by an 
association with some that glitter in the golden 
garter or the diamond star. 

Cuperet lustrari, si qua darentur 



Sulphur a cum t&dis, et siforet humida laurusJ 

The covetous man reverses the principle on 
which iEsop chose his burthen, and oppresses him- 
self with a heavier load of provision the nearer he 
gets to the end of his journey. 

Magnanimity is incompatible with a very pro 
found respect for the opinions of others, on any 
occasion, and more particularly where they happen 
to stand between us and the truth. Had Jesus 
respected all the forms, usages, ceremonies, and 
tenets of his countrymen, there had been no 
redemption ; and had Luther been biassed by the 
opinions of his contemporaries, by the dogmas of 
synods, the creeds of councils, or the authority of 
titles, there had been no reformation. 



If you want enemies, excel others ; if you 
want friends, let others excel you. There is a dia- 
bolical trio, existing in the natural man, implacable, 
inextinguishable, co-operative, and consentaneous, 
pride, envy, and hate. Pride, that makes us 

* He would desire a survey to be made, to see if torches and 
hrimstom could befovMd, and if the laurel wa* moist. — Pub. 



LACON. 477 

fancy we deserve all the goods that others possess : 
Envy, that some should be admired, while we are 
overlooked ; and Hate, because all that is bestowed 
on others, diminishes the sum that we think due to 
ourselves. 



It is far more easy to pull down, than to build 
up, and to destroy than to preserve. Revolutions 
have on this account been falsely supposed to be 
fertile of great talent ; as the dregs rise to the top, 
during a fermentation, and the lightest things are 
carried highest by the whirlwind. And the prac- 
tice of this proposition bears out the theory ; for 
demagogues have succeeded tolerably well in mak- 
ing ruins; but the moment they begin to build 
anew from the materials that they have overthrown, 
they have often been uselessly employed with 
regard to others, and more often dangerously with 
regard to themselves. 

Fracta compage ruehani.'* 



Of present fame think little, and of future less. 
The praises that we receive after we are buried, 
like the posies that are strewn over our graves, 
may be gratifying to the living, but they are nothing 
to the dead ; the dead are gone, either to a place 
where they hear them not, or where, if they do, 
they will despise them. 



We strive as hard to hide our hearts from our- 
selves, as from others, and always with more suc- 
cess: for in deciding upon our own case, we are 
both judge, jury, and executioner ; and where 

* The bands hting broken the sfructurr. fell. — Pl"b. 



478 I* A CON. 

sophistry cannot overcome the first, or flattery the 
second ; self-love is always ready to defeat the sen- 
tence by bribing the third ; a bribe that in this case 
is never refused, because she always comes up to 
the price. 

As large garrisons are most open to multifarious 
points of attack, and bloated bodies expose a large 
surface to the shafts of disease, so also unwieldy 
and overgrown establishments only afford an en- 
larged area for plunder and peculation. He whom 
many serve, will find that he must also serve many, 
or be himself disserved ; and the head of a large 
establishment is too often only the head of a gang 
of petty conspirators, who are eternally plotting 
against their chief. 

It has been considered a matter of the greater 
difficulty to reconcile the foreknowledge of God 
with the free agency of man. I shall venture a 
few remarks on this subject, which will be under- 
stood, I hope, by every one, and may be assented 
to perhaps by some. The difficulty of this ques- 
tion I humbly conceive to lie principally, if not 
wholly, in our misappropriation of the term fore- 
knowledge. The truth is, that foreknowledge 
belongs unto man, not unto God. Foreknowledge 
must of necessity, and from its very nature, belong 
solely to creatures of time, to finite and created 
intellects, but not to that intellect that is infinite, 
and creates. It is most probable that there are 
many orders and degrees of finite and created 
intellectual beings, and to all of them foreknow- 
ledge, in a higher or lower degree, may belong ; buf 



L A V u N , in 

we can trace it only in man ; in man it may be 
found under various modifications , but mostly in a 
very infantine and imperfect state, having much 
more to do with probabilities than with certainties, 
whether it enable the peasant to foretel a storm, or 
the philosopher an eclipse. Foreknowledge, there- 
fore, as it exists in man, can extend its views no 
farther into time, as compared with eternity, than 
the snail his horns into space, as compared with 
infinity. But to attribute the faculty of foreknow- 
ledge to God, this I conceive is to degrade rather 
than to exalt him : that which is past, and thai 
which is to come, are both to him one eternal now: 
he sees every thing, he foresees nothing, for futu- 
rity itself is present with him. Before or after; 
far or near, above or below, these are all intelligible 
terms, when applied to things created, and which 
exist in time and in space .; but the^e terms apply 
not to the omniscient, self^existent, eternal i and 
omnipresent Creator. To admit the omnipresence 
of God in space, but to deny his omniscience in 
time, is to half dethrone him. All ideas therefore 
of succession as to time, and of distance as to 
space, relate not unto God, but unto man. God is 
at once, 'first, last, midst, and without end ;' and 
time itself is but a drop in that ocean of eternity, 
which he alone both fills and comprehends. All 
things therefore are present to Him ; the motive no 
less than the moment, the action no less than the 
man. To a being that is omnipresent in time, all 
future actions may be looked upon as done : they 
are seen therefore because they are done, not done 
because they are seen ; and if this be true, it follows^ 
that foreknowledge, as applied to God, with its 
necessary deduction ; foreordination, as applied to 



LACON, 

man, with all its lame conclusions and libertifrg 
consequences, falls a baseless fabric to the ground. 



Ignorance lies at the bottom of all human know- 
edge, and the deeper we penetrate , the nearer we 
arrive unto it. For what do we truly know, or what 
can we clearly affirm, of any one of hose impor- 
tant things upon which all our reasonings must of 
necessity be built—time and space, life and death, 
matter arrd mind? Of matter and of mind, one 
philosopher has no less absurdly than irrefutably, 
proved the non-existence of the first, and thousands 
have attempted to prove the annihilation of the 
last. Common sense however punishes all depar- 
tures from her, by forcing those who rebel against 
her, into a desperate war with all facts and expe- 
rience, and into a civil war still more terrible, with 
each other and with themselves ; for We retain both 
our bodies and our souls, in spite of the skeptics, 
and find, 

1 That parts destroyed diminish riot trie whole, 
Though Berkley take the body, Hume the soul.' 

But it is not to be wondered at, that those work 
men should blunder who know so little of their 
tools, and that untenable theories, should be the 
consequence of building by rules whose principles 
are erroneous, and with materials, whose proper- 
ties are not understand; for the tower of Babel is 
not the only monument of human pride, that has 
failed from human ignorance. Alas ! what is man ? 
Whether he be deprived of that light which is from 
en high, or whether he discard it, a frail and trem- 
bling creature ; standing on time, that Weak and 
narrow isthmus between two eternities, he sees 
nothing but impenetrable darkness on the one hand, 



LAC ON. iSt 

&nd doubt, distrust, and conjecture still mors per- 
plexing, on the other. Most gladly would he take 
an observation, as to whence he has come, or 
whither he is going ; alas'! he has not the means : 
his telescope is too dim, his compass too wavering, 
his plummet too short. Nor is that little spot, his 
present state, due whit more intelligible, since it 
may prove -3 ffuicksand that may sink in a moment 
from his feet; it can afford him no certain reckoning, 
as to that immeasurable ocean that he may have 
traversed, or that still more formidable one that he 
must: an awful expedition, that is accelerated by 
every moment by which it is delayed. Neither is 
the outfit less gloomy or less forbidding than the 
voyage itself: the bark is a coffin. ; the destination,- 
darkness ; and the helmsman, death, 

Christianity has been emphatically termed the 
social religion* and society is the proper sphere of 
all its duties, as the ecliptic is of the sun. Society 
is a sphere that demands all our energies, and 
deserves all that it demands. He, therefore, that 
retires to cells and to caverns, to stripes and to 
famine, to court a more arduous conflict, and to win 
a richer crown, is doubly deceived; the conflict is 
less, the reward is nothing. He may indeed win a 
race-, if he can be admitted to have done so, who 
had no competitors, because he chose to run alone ; 
but he will be entitled *o no prize, because he ran 
Out of the course. * Who hath required this at your 
hands V This single question ought to have made 
the ascetic pause, before he weaved his horsehair, 
or platted his thong. — Alas ! how has the social 
and cheerful spirit of Christianity been perverted 
by fools at one time, and by knaves at another ; by 



482 LACON. 

the self-tormentors of the cell, or the all-tormentors 
of the conclave. In this enlightened age, we 
despise perhaps the absurdities of the one, and the 
atrocities of the other. The day is gone by when 
saints could post to paradise by the smack of their 
own whip, as if virtue, like beauty, were only skin- 
deep, and devotion, like a top, could not be kept up 
but by flogging ; as though the joys of heaven, like 
the comforts of an inn, required to be heightened 
by the privations of the journey, and the ruggedness 
of the road. But after we have laughed at these 
things, let us look a little seriously at ourselves. 
Are there no other words ending in ism, that are 
now creating as many self-tormentors as Catholicism 
has lost ? Are there no protestants who are their 
own popes ? and are there no dissenters from truth, 
as well as from error 1 Are there none whom Cal- 
vin has placed upon a spiritual pinnacle far more 
giddy and aspiring than the marble pillar of St. 
Simeon ? and are there none whom he torments 
with the scorpion-stings of a despair ten times more 
horrible than the whips of St. Dominic ; who have 
perhaps escaped the melancholy of madness, only 
by exchanging it for the presumption of pride ; 
denying that eternal mercy to others, of which they 
themselves also once despaired, as though that 
were a fountain that thirst could diminish, or num- 
ber exhaust? 



Warburton affirms that there never was a great 
conqueror, legislator, or founder of a religion, who 
had not a mixture of enthusiasm and policy in his 
composition : enthusiasm to influence the public 
mind, and policy to direct it. As I mean to con- 
**ie myself, in this article, to war and warriors, / 



LAC ON. 483 

think it right to premise, that policy is a much more 
common ingredient, in such characters, than enthu- 
siasm. I admit, that in some particular idiosyn- 
crasies, as for instance in that of Cromwell, or of 
Mahomet, this heterogeneous mixture may have 
been combined ; but even then, these contradictory 
elements, like oil and vinegar, required a constant 
state of motion, and of action, to preserve their 
coalescence ; in a state of inaction, and of repose, 
it was no longer a union, but the policy invariably 
got the ascendency of the enthusiasm. William 
the Third, on the contrary, and Washington, united 
three great essentials, much more homogeneous 
than those insisted on by Warburton : courage, 
coolness, and conduct ; but enthusiasm is the last 
thing I should impute to either of these men. If 
we look into White's institutes of Tamerlane, or, 
more properly speaking, of Timour the lame, we 
shall find that there never was a character who had 
less to do with enthusiasm, than this Tartar hero, 
nor that despised it more. His whole progress 
was but one patient and persevering application of 
means to ends, causes to consequences, and effects 
to results. Without the slightest particle of any 
thing visionary or enthusiastic in himself, and with 
a certain quantum of contempt for these qualities 
in others, he commenced his career by being a lame 
driver of camels, and terminated it by reigning 
over twenty-six independent principalities. There- 
fore we must not take every thing for gospel that 
comes from the pen of such a writer as Warburton, 
who on one occasion shuddered at the skeptical 
doctrines of antiquity, as subversive of the estab 
tished gods of Athens I But to return to war, 
and warriors. There are some ideas afloat on this 



4Si LAC ON. 

subject, that I cannot kelp conceiving tu be botk 
ruinous and wrong. I shall not despair of produ- 
cing my own convictions on this subject with that 
portion of my readers who think with mc, that 
every war of mere ambition, aggression, or aggran- 
dizement, is an evil both hateful and degrading ; 
who think it a nuisance that ought io be abated, 
and who abominate every thing appcjtainingHhereto, 
< >r connected there with . Considered in the abstract* 
and unconnected with all views of the causes for 
which it may be undertaken, surely war is an evil 
that none but a misanthrope could conscientiously 
rejoice in, or consistently promote. But all men 
think not thus ; there are minds, and powerful ones, 
too, endowed with a right feeling on every other 
subject, who seem to labour under some mental 
hallucination on this, in the first place,. I am so 
unfortunate as not to be able to discover those mar- 
vellous eiibrts of talent, gigantic combinations of 
power, and exuberant fertility of resource, which 
some would persuade us are essential to great 
commanders, and confined to them alone.* But 

* With the exception of Victor, Marmont, and Suchet, all 
the modern French generals have been men of no very 
splendid intellectual or adscititious endowments :the rudi- 
ments of all they know, they seemed to have gained in the 
ranks, and to have gleaned all their talents in the field 
wherein they were exerted. In one respect these men 
were superior to their masters; but it was on a point where 
courage was more prominent than talent ; they said to their 
soldiers: l Comc on;' their master sometimes contented him- 
self with saying: ' Go on .' Napoleon himself had great talent, 
and to deny him this \>ouldbe-a gross libel on mankind ; \x 
would be no less than an admission that all Europe had for 
fourteen years been outfought in the field, and outwitted 'm 
the cabinet, by a blockhead. But when we have allowed 
him talent, we have allowed him all that he •' l 



LACON. 485 

setting aside the truism, that fortune, though blind, 
has often led the most sharpsighted hero to that 
victory which he would have lost without her, what 
qualities are there in a conqueror which have not 
been held in common by the captain of a smuggler's 
crew, or a chief of banditti ? The powers of these 
latter have been exhibited on a narrower stage, 
rewarded by a less illustrious exaltation, and 
recorded in a more inglorious calendar. With 

confess there is one thing that excites in me the greatest 
astonishment, which causes me to wonder with exceeding 
wonder, ^ityaXi^ Qavpari dayjAcrritypsvdsl and that is the cir- 
cumstance, that any lover of rational liberty, or constitu- 
tional freedom throughout the whole civilized world, should 
be found in the list of this man's admirers. To every thing 
connected with freedom he was the most systematic and 
deliberate foe that ever existed upon the face of the earth. 
Is T o human being was ever intrusted with such ample means 
and brilliant opportunities for establishing his own true 
glory and the solid happiness of others : and where can 
nistory point out one that so foully perverted them to his own 
disgrace, and the misery of his fellow-men ? He has been 
described by one who witnessed only the commencement of 
his career, as the 'child and champion of Jacobinism ;' 
but if he were the child of Jacobinism, he was the champion 
of despotism ; and those who wished to rivet the chains of 
slavery, chose a paradoxical mode of forwarding the work, 
by opposing the workman. This therefore is the man 
whom I cannot find it in my heart, either to pity or to 
praise. — Are we to praise him for that suicidal selfishness 
that dictated his treachery to Spain, and his march to Mos~ 
cow % Are we to pity him because, having ceased to be a 
field-officer, he could not begin to be a philosopher ; but 
having books to read, ample matter to reflect upon, men to 
talk to, women 'to trifle with, horses to ride, and equipages 
to command, he died at last of ennui upon a rock, from a 
cause not the most likely to excite the sympathy of the 
patriot nor the regret of "the philanthropist? it was this : 
that Europe would not supply him with any more throats 
to cut or provinces to plunder. 



486 LACO N. 

some few exceptions, he is the ablest general that 
can practise the greatest deceit, and support it by 
the greatest violence ; who can best develop the 
designs of others, and best conceal his own ; who 
can best enact both parts of hypocrisy, by simula- 
ting to be what he is not and dissembling that which 
he is : persuading his adversary that he is most 
strong when he is most weak, and most weak 
when he is in fact most strong. He is not to be 
over scrupulous as to the justice of his cause, for 
might is his right and artillery his argument ; with 
the makeweight of courage thrown into the scale, 
there are few requisites for a Jonathan Wild or a 
Turpin, that are not equally necessary for a Tip- 
poo or a Tamerlane. The difference is less in the 
things than in the names. Thus, the callous 
effrontery of the one becomes the coolest presence 
of mind in the other ; fraud is dignified by the title 
of skill, and robbery with that of requisition. To 
plot the death of an individual, is a conspiracy, but 
to confederate to destroy a people, is a coalition ; 
and pillage and murder seem to lose their horrors, 
in precise proportion to the magnitude of their scale 
and the multitude of their victims. But a consum- 
mate captain must have courage, or at least be 
thought to have it. ; for courage, like charity, covers 
a multitude of sins : and he is by common consent 
allowed to sport with the lives of others, who is 
supposed to have no value for his own. But the 
time is fast approaching with the many, and now is 
with the few, when mere military talent, abstract- 
edly considered, and without any reference to the 
ends for which it be displayed, will hardly secure its 
possessor a glory more longlived than a gazette, or 
a metnoiiai more splendid than a signpost. The 



LACON. 4S7 

fact is, that posterity has and will appreciate the 
merit of great commanders, not by the skill with 
which they have handled their tools, but by the 
uses to which they have applied them. Suppose 
we were to grant that the art of cutting throats- 
were a very difficult art, yet even then the merits 
of this art must be measured, not by its diffi- 
culty, but by its utility ; and the value of tlio 
remedy must be adjusted by the propriety o^ the 
application : but in resorting to . such a remedy 
as war, I suspect that it w T ill be found that all 
the difficulties of such phlebotomy belong to the 
patient, but the facilities to the surgeon. Mere 
martial glory, independent of all considerations 
as to the necessity and the justice of our 
arms, is now fast descending, with many other 
worn-out fooleries, to the tomb of all the Capulets, 
where, attended by bankrupt agents, disgorged 
contractors, and starving commissaries, let us pray 
that, with all due military honours, it may be 
speedily buried and embalmed ; let hireling poets 
indite its dirge, and meddling monks say masses 
for its soul. All wars of interference, arising from 
an officious intrusion into the concerns of the other 
states ; all wars of ambition, carried on for the pur- 
poses of aggrandizement; and all wars of aggres- 
sion, undertaken for the purpose of forcing an assent 
to this or that set of religious opinions ; all such 
wars are criminal in their very outset, and have 
hypocrisy for their common base. 

First, there is the hypocrisy of encumbering our 
neighbour with an officiousness of help, that pre- 
tends his good, but means our own ; then there is 
the hypocrisy of ambition, where some restless and 
grasping potentate, knowing that he is about to 



48$ L A C O JS ? , 

injure and insult, puts forth a Jesuitical preamble, 
purporting that he himself has been first insulted 
and injured ; but nations have the justest cause ta 
feel a fear that is real, when such begin to express 
a fear that is feigned. Then comes the hypocrisy" 
of those who would persuade us that to kill, burn, 
and destroy, for conscience's sake, is an acceptable 
service, and that religion is to be supported by 
trampling under foot those primary principles of 
love, charity, and forbearance, without which it were 
better to have none. Lastly, comes a minor and 
subordinate hypocrisy, common to the three kinds 
I have stated above ; I mean that of those who 
pretend most deeply to deplore the miseries of war, 
and who even weep over them, with the tears of 
the crocodile, but who will not put a stop to war, 
although they have the means, because they find 
their own private account in continuing it, from the 
emoluments it bestows and from the patronage it 
confers. Like Fabius, they also profit by delay, 
1 cunctando restituere rem? but they do so with a 
very different motive, not to restore the shattered 
fortunes of their country, but their own. Neither 
must we forget, in this view of our subject, the raw 
and ignorant recruit, whom to delude and to kidnap, 
a whole system of fraud and hypocrisy is marshalled 
out and arrayed. The grim idol of war is tricked 
out and flounced in all the colours of the rainbow : 
the neighing steed awaits her nod, music attends 
her footsteps, and jollity caters at her board ; but 
no sooner is the sickle exchanged for the sword 
and the fell contract signed, than he finds that this 
Bellona, whom he had wooed as a goddess in court 
ship, turns out to be a demon in possession ; that 



LAC ON. 489 

terror is hei constant purveyor, and that her alter- 
nate caterers are privation and waste ; that her 
sojourn is with the slain, and her abode with the 
pestilence ; that her fascinations are more fatal 
than those of the basilisk .; that her brightest smile 
is danger, and that her warmest embrace is death. 
We are told that civilization marches in the rear 
of conquest, and that barbarous nations have 
received this boon, at least, from the refined 
and polished blades of their victors. This argu- 
ment in favour of war may, I trust, be neutralized 
by the consideration that the strongest hands have 
not always been united to the brightest heads ; for 
the rudest nations have in their turn retaliated on 
the most refined ; and from a darkness more dense 
than that of Egypt, the thunderbolt of victory has 
been elicited, as the brightest lightning from the 
blackest cloud. Greece has twice surrendered her 
independence and liberties to masters, in every 
thing but force, far inferior to herself; the first 
treated her as a mistress, the second as a slave. 
imperial Rome* herself, in her high and palmy 
state, when in the proudest possession of all the 
arts of each Minerva, was doomed in her turn to be 
the prey of a sayage horde that despised both, and 



* 'No, freedom ! no, I will not tell 

How Rome, Ix.fore thy weeping face, 
With heaviest sound, a giant statue fell; 

Pushed, by a wild and artless race, 

From off its wide ambitious base : 
-When time his northern sons of spoil awoke, 

And every blended work of strength and grace, 

With many a rude repeated stroke, 
JLsid uvmy a savage yell, to thousand fragments broke. 1 
CoHim's Ode to Freedom. 



400 LAC ON. 

studied neither. But if the argument I am com 
bating ever had any force, it could only have been 
when knowledge was in its infancy and the world 
in its childhood. The general spread of civiliza- 
tion, by commerce, the sciences, and the arts — those 
legitimate daughters, not of war but of peace — not 
of the vulture, but of the halcyon — these are the 
blessings that will make the hardest advocate 
shrink from recommending warfare as a present 
instrument of civilization; particularly in an era 
that presents us with means far more grateful, ele- 
gant, and efficacious ; an era when we have the 
safety-lamp of science to resort to, a lamp that 
gives us all the light, but none of the conflagration. 
In fact, the demoralizing tendencies of war are so 
notorious, that to insist upon them would be to insult 
the understanding of my readers ; and to purchase 
refinement at the expense of virtue, would be to 
purchase tinsel at the price of gold. The most 
peace-loving minister that ever governed the affairs 
of a nation, decidedly declared, that even the most 
successful war often left a people more poor, always 
more profligate, than it found them Where a nation 
rises with one eoBsenfc to shake off the yoke of 
oppression, either from within or from without, all 
fair concessions having been proposed in vai?i, 
here indeed we have a motive that both dignifies 
the effort, and consecrates the success , here indeed 
the most peaceable sect of the most peaceable reli- 
gion might conscientiously combine. But, alas ! 
how few wars have been justified by such a princi- 
ple, and how few warriors by such a plea ; and 
when they have, how unfortunate have they usually 
been in the choice of their leaders ! in the motley 
mob Of conquerors and of captains, how few Wash 



LACON. 491 

Ingtons or Alfreds shall we find ! The children 
of those days, when the world was young, rude as 
the times they lived in, and rash at once from igno- 
rance and from inexperience, amused themselves 
with the toys and the trumpets, the gewgaws and 
the glitter of war. But we who live in the maturity 
of things, who to the knowledge of the present add 
a retrospection of the past, we who alone can fairly 
be termed the ancients, or be said to live in the olden 
time ; we, I trust, are no longer to be deluded or 
befooled by this brilliant but baneful meteor, com- 
posed of visionary good, but of substantial evil. 
We live in the manhood and in the fulness of time, 
and the triumphs of truth and of reason, triumphs 
bright as bloodless ; these are the proper business 
and the boast of those who, having put away child- 
ish things, are becoming men. There are some 
that with oracular gravity will inform us, that as 
wars have ever been, they must on that account 
continue to be ; but they might as well assert that 
the imbecility and ignorance that marked the 
conduct of our forefathers, those ancient moderns, 
who lived in the infancy of the world, and in the 
childhood of time, must and do exist at present, 
because they existed then. With a solitary excep- 
tion, all vjarfare is built upon hypocrisy, acting upon 
ignorance; ignorance it was that lent success to 
Mahomet's miracles, and to Cromwell's cant. For 
lack of knowledge a people is destroyed ; and know- 
ledge alone it is that is worthy of holding the freest 
minds in the firmest thraldom. Unlike those of 
the warrior, the triumphs of knowledge derive all 
their lustre, not from the evil they have produced, 
but from the good ; her successes and her conquest 
are the common property of the world, and sue • 



j$2 LACU^ 

ceeding ages will be the watchful guardians of t\m 

rich legacies she bequeaths. The trophies and the 
titles of the conqueror are on the quick march to 
oblivion, and amid that desolation where they were 
planted, will decay. For what are the triumphs of 
War,* planned by ambition, executed by violence, 
and consummated by devastation ? the means are 
the sacrifice of the many ; the end, the bloated 
aggrandizement of the few. Knowledge has put a 
stop to chivalry, as she one day will to war, and 
Cervantes has laughed out of the held those self- 
constituted legislators that carried the sword, but 
not the scales of justice, and who were mounted 
and mailed. I am no advocate for a return of this 
state of things ; but when that heroic and chivalries 
spirit ivas abroad, when men volunteered on dan- 
gers for the good of others, without emolument, 
and laid down the sword when that for which they 
resorted to it was overcome, then indeed a measure 

* 'Speaking of the conqueror, the inspired writer observes* 
that 'before him the land is as the garden of Eden, behind 
him as the desolate wilderness;' and that poet who drank 
deepest of the sacred stream, has the following lines: — 

f They err who count it glorious to subdue 
By conquest far and wide, to overrun 
Large countries, and in field f reat battles win, 
Great cities by assault ; what do these worthies 
But rob and spoil, burn, slaughter, and enslave 
Peaceable nations, neighbouring, or remote, 
Made captive, yet deserving fi eiulom more 
Than those their conquerors; who leave behind 
Nothing but ruin, whereso'eer tlu-y rove, 
And ail the flourishing works of peace destroy] 
Then swell in pride, and must be titled gods, 
Till conqueror Death discovei s them scarce men, 
Rolling in brutish vices and deformed, 
Violent or shameful death their due reward.' 

Millo/i 



LA CON. Ml 

©f respect and admiration awaited them, end a 
feeling, honourable to both parties, was entertained. 
But is it not both absurd and ridiculous to transfer 
this respect and esteem to those who make a trade 
of warfare, and who barter for blood ? who are as 
indifferent as the sword they draw, to the purposes 
for which it is drawn, who put on the badge of a 
master, wear his livery, and receive his pay. 
Where all is mercenary, nothing can be magnani- 
mous ; and it is impossible to have the slightest 
respect for an animated mass of machinery, that 
moves alike at the voice of a drum, or a despot ; a 
trumpet, or a tyrant ; a fife, or a fool. 



THE END. 



IN !>EX. 



fcLtdmnk -.i] honours useful, when, 
Adversity and Prosperity, both ternpla" 
\dvice, - 

H to projectaps, 
fcgroement dangerous, when, 
Aericuilure the safest source of wealt 
^rexauder makes a dislinctien not vvjt: 
Ambition, its evils, - 

44 heirs iio rira! passion, - 
Analogy powerful, when, 
Aii-cer and Confluence, - 

' like wine. 
Anticipations Foolish, whan, 
Antithesis, its relations to wit, 
Auiniai>. two very important ones, 
Antiquity, the Alma -Slater of pedants, 
A.neieitu compared with the moderns, 
Apprentice boy, 
Apostaey, goou excuse for it, 

atto.i, - ; 

Airieisjiii, lis ^surdities, 
AruustUh, his craft, 
Audiori'y pf ift*a£ names, 
Avaiio.-. why it increases with age 
A)iriM)e>i>, defcnete of it, 
A.^o'^u-': c«. pofausous, - 

Ac<.|-iiirc:nc : ' >. r\ con iite, 
rftocieut . 

is, a re mark ol his, 
Lion, • 
Aemiaimauce, two sorts", 

. ibip, 
A a vice. 

Antiqjtity and JLncestry, 
Absurdities, 

Apostles, three gEtfct ones, 
.iiiihro, - 

Ay j ai;d love, r 

4t>re t? , its i-i [lie, 



\ a di^erenc 



Part 

its 

1J2 

sir 
s$ 

99 

173 

! c 



230 
235 



£«» J 



"J9 
2WS 



?51 



373 
378 
4115 



496 



INDEX. 



Battles not decisive, of what, 

Beauty perfect, when, - 

Benefits sometimes refined revenge, 

Bible and sword, - 

Bigotry, - - 

Bill drawn on futurity, 

Bodies more difficult to make up than minds, 

Books, 

Bravery of cowards, what. 

Britain, her resources a mystery to Napoieon, 

British Constitution, 

Benevolence, - 

Bodies Corporate, 

Books, kind most valuable, - 



Fas* 

- 141 
J 37 

95 
35 
19 
193 

- 197 

- 149 
234 

240, 449 
339 

- 348 
464 



Celebrity, short road to it, - - - CO 

Characters, oddly contradictory, - - - 46 

Church, schisms in it to be lamented, - • 221 

Classification, - - - - — -160 

Coat, shabby one, what few can afford to wear, - _ - J25 

Code, civil, not likely to be mended, - - 68 

Commentators, ----- 96 

Common sense right without rules, - - 39 

Contemporaneous applause, 19 

Constitution cf mind, what fitest for a great man, - 47 

Conceit differs from confidence, - - 55 

Constellation of great men, - 131 

.Conversation, a concert of mind, * 198 

Conversion slow in India, - - - - 1 10 

Country towns all alike, in what, ... 286 

Cowardice most incorrigible, when., - " - 38 

Coxcombs seldom alone, 55 

Courtiers abused but courted, - - - 138 

Cromwell, his narrow escape, - - - 199 

Cunning differs from skill, - * - 55 

Curse, a blessing in disguise, - 50 
Coxcombs, grateful when, - Preface 13 

Cuckoldom, - 309 

Candour, - - - - - 311 

Characters, ----- 339 

Character of a people, • 350 

Credulity, ----- 352 

Courage, - - - - - - 350 

Cause, a good one injured, - - - - 

Controversies, religious, - 372 

Criticism, - ..„--• 384 

Centuries, when of age, • - - 399 

Codes, severe ones, - 403 

Composition, • - 408 

Coxcomb, ------ 420 

Conversions, - - - - - 438 

Calumny, - - ... 459 

Consolation, selfish, - - - • - 462 

Christianity, a social religion, ... 4^1 



I \ D E X . 497 

Pag* 

Da r ( o of J a. pa n , - £ t'S 

terrible, in what, ~ - - - 204 

Debts give consequence, ...... jya 

Defeat polifie, when. £2 

^e^siidit nuaiems, an urvsafd rule, • . 3i 

Demagogues despotic, - - 191 
.ion proceeds geometrically, preservation arithmetical'; , ls'» 

]J t vhs iaugh, at whom, « - - - 'iil 

Dbfcnimt report* cdtravtdieTs, why, - - J V. J 

jrftfemina, an uwi: w#rd one, . - - . jsg 

pissi*nniatiou p»Hj«Jon>ib!fe, When, - _ - - t-j 

l&siuteresled gifts, what, - - - 49 

$tispule>: begin at tms u rong" end, - - - 1<H 
Jtojpiiatism not eoni'tried to sCiioiar.H, ... je , 

flkVubt, [t rtrstibule, - - - - H4 

teo&bt, a serious one, - - - - - 17m 

Jlftifts dyawu fey genius on posterity always pakfi - 84 

T'*r*:ims prove nothing but the credulity of Mankind. - 831 

Oiiels. the fault of the seconds a* often as of principals, • M 
nruukcio.v--. -----. ftf?H 

Tenets, how to manage frhein; ... gfjq 

Tieath, - - - - " - - ?:i 

diplomacy, - - - - "j* 

- ' . - . . 345 

>*K»genos. why he u^d* a* laiK#£k, ... 37*; 

J^aVrdeYs, - - - - - - ?:r 

ad, --.--• 4#U| 

ft it, its cause. - - - - W i 

Hi* s, . 4V) 

j:eo ; a, a tvondoT, - 43*1 

J^vril ai id trustees, - 938 

}'e<'. ;>!ioiw a double, one, .... i;,;; 

D&faj-e, - • - - - -473 

Ease in Myie not ■*?:.■■./, .... sjgfl 

KvCenUiriia -, ...... o:> 

Kffonss ■. Oj ■ . irded, when. - - - 203 

• trd, - - - * : ^ 

- parts as wei! a-, bea.lt-, - - ibl 

KpV.ahetii. Queen, her lift ;, served, how, - - - p3$ 

Emulation, a sum not 01 *(jok£ - - - 1*25 
Kmmi, its empire, .... \dj\ 

]'::. uiasm, 2-1 
6avy, ...... j»;r 

3h-- iocs, the!} 1 (ensures does u> credit; - - 270 

fJrror differs from upaorar.ee, - - - -17 

frrot, one that, all cojnunt, all abuse, - - - 2&j 

rfons, little ones to be pardoned, rttien, - - - £31 

listatc, a verv large one. and pays no lax, what, - ft) 

Events", how construed by enthusiasts, - - - 1V2 

Evidence seldom, if ever appear* in a ecurt ^f jn^' ; cr. - 27S 

- - 

Eipcrfc ict ru d< ctcd, - '- - S 173 
V2 * 



498 



INDEX. 



Evil, parturescent, 

Education of the lower orders, 

Epigram, 

Effects and causes, - 

England's four powers, - 

Education, female, - 

Early impression, 

Extemporaneous harangues, - 

Excellence, 

Enemies, how to get therm * 



318 
353 
363 
412 
414 
423 
446 
456 
467 
476 



Falstaff, his soldiers feared but one thing, - 

Falsehood, like a perspective, 

Fame, an undertaker, 

Fanatics always inexorable, 

Fashion, - 

Female improvement, - 

Fear debilitates, - 

Fine houses, finest when, 

Flattery, adroit, when, - 

Fools formidable, why, 

Fortune not blind, why, - 

Forbidden things, 

Franklin, Doctor, 

Friends, more dilTicult to forgive than enemies, « 

Friendship, politic, when, 

Flatterv, - 

Flattery, cunning, = 

Fame, posthumous, • 

Fortune, a goddess, - 

Fame, a small fountain, 

Fools and rogues, «... 

Free press, - 

Fashion, its miseries, - 

French Revolution, - 

Flat catchers, - - - - 

Forms of liberty, --*-,# 

Foreknowledge, - 

Free agency, - 



S41 



161 

140 
249 
128 
255 
66 
100 
32 
50 
150 
56 
22 
196 
276 
191 
, 439 
348 
365 
365 
391 
415 
425 
430 
450 
461 
4-74 
478 
478 



Gamesters, doubly ruined, how, - 

Glory, road to it, arduous, - 

God, on the side of virtue, 

God will excuse our prayers, when, 

Good unalloyed, a rare thing, 

Governments give national character, not climates, 

Great men, like comets, - 

Great men, where deceived. - 

Greatness, best appreciated by the greatest, 

Great men, seldom pitied, 

Gossipers, - 

Great minds, - . . * 

Gibbon, a mistake of his, 

Genius, --'--* 



122 
51 
97 
94 
19 
177 
144 
83 
285 
297 
249 
373 
391 
295 



INDEX. 



499 



Grandfathers and Grandmothers, - 

Ghosts, - 

Gold-making, an art not desirable, 



Habit, 

Half measure, - 

Happiness, - 

Hatred differs from pity, in what, 

Head, the seat of contentment, 

Head of a parly, 

Heaven, the road to it too narrow for wheels, 

Hesitation, a weakness, - 

Honour differs from virtue, 

Hope, 

Horace, a sycophantic satirist, 

Human expietiveness, - 

Humility, - 

Hunter, John, - 

Hurry differs from dispatch, 

Hypocricy, 

Hypocrites, 

Hypocondriacs, die daily, 

Happiness, 

Hatred, a cause of it. 

Health, why not envied, 

Human ignorance, 

Idleness expensive, why, 

Ignorance, - 

Imitators of princes numerous, 

Ingratitude, 

Inequalities of life, real things, 

Intrigues of state, 

Injuries seldom pardoned, when, 

" with impunity. 
Ism, words ending in it, - 
Idleness, » 

Independence, - 
Immortality of the soul, 
Integrity, 

jealousy ,why so unsupportable, 
Jealousy, a hard task master, 
Jesuits, in their generation, • 
Jurisprudence, civil, 



Khan, of Tartary, - 
Kings, thGir highest wisdom, what, 
King of England interested in preserving the freedom 
Kings, theimoblest ambition, what, 
Kixgs, living ones, more flattered but less praisad than 
deserve, -■•»■-,» 



. 4U8 

202 

• 460 



260 

• 107 
211 
220 
101 

27 

109 

194 

30 

72, 375 

201 

61 

258 

218 

55 

91 

32 

• 139 
369 

. $93 

458 

. 480 

59 
17 

> 121 

262 

20 

260 

37 

41 

213 

312 

.. 318 

319 

. 404 



101 

39 

230 



98P 

44 
of the press, 67 
- 124 
they 

• 253 



500 



INDEX. 



Knowledge, - 

" how attained, 

" tb 6 clearest the most simple, 

ICiiavery, a mistake about it, 

Labour, a good, 

Law and equity, 

Law and inns] 

Learned blunders, - 

L etters, laboured oni^, . 

Life, a theatre, 

" its ills, how to bear Idem, 
.Logic, .... 

Loudon audience, 
Love without jealousy, 
Love of power, 
Law and lawyers, 
Learning and wisdom, - 
Love, how to nafeke it, 
Love, a volcano, 
Love, its powers, 
Leyden, Doctor, an ode oi' his, 
Light, the best of reformers, - 
Ladies, 

Learned dunces, ... 
Lawyer, good excuse for a roguish one, 



Magnanimity, in a cottage, 

Man, a paradox, 

Many men neither bad, nor good, why, 

Man, both social and seiiish, 

Martyrdom, proves what, 

Matrimony 

Mattyrs, modem, scarce, 

Mathematics, ... 

Men. every where the same, - 

'* have two eyes, but one tongue, 
Means, great, seldom combined with great 
Memory, the friend of wit, 
Measures, if unpopular, how to carry' them 
Metals, omnipotent, where, 
Metaphysics, promise much, and perform lit' 
Mind, its existence proved by doubling it. 
Miracle, the greatest, 
Mis' ake, a royal one, 
.Money, well laid out. 
Motive*, differ often from pretexts, 
Mystery magnifies, - 
Memory, • ■-- - 

Marriage, a feast, 
Mistakes, common ones, 
Mystery, - 

Mythology, ancient. 
Mysteries, matters of faftk, 



103, 



Pom 

40 

1J3 
5* 



50 

189 

101 

] &5 

bl 
S(5 
60 
250 

i«8 



303 

304 

234 



" 


; 




- 


• 


§2 


- 


-. 


*8 

m 

5*7 


- 


* 




1 * 




70 


neasures, 


- • 


1L2 


• 


* 


292 


tie, - 


• 


m 

- IS!2 




- 


m 

50 


- 


- 


154 


- 


- 


•ISO 


* 


- 


an 

■ 35a 


• 


- 


350 


. 


- 


363 



INDEX. 



501 



Middle classes, • 

Men, in masses, • • 

Men, who most proper, - 

Man, a dogmatizing animal, - 
Mal-gpvernment, - * 

Metaphysicians, - - • 

Morality, - 

Magnanimity, - 

Name in literature,, 

Nations, always as free as they deserve, 

Nature, works with few tools, 

Nature, no chasms in her operations, - 

Neutrality, no favourite with providence, 

Nothing should excite murmers, - 

Nonsense, puffed, - 

Necessary things, ... 

Nobility, 

Nations, free, only when they deserve it, • 

Opinions, when they may be changed without suspicion, 

Opponents best answered, how, - 

Opportunities often overlooked, 

Orators, pleaders seldom good ones. 

Opinions of the learned, 

Observations of Paschal, 

•Oratory, • 

Originality, • 



Passions, compared to pendulums, 

Patriots, modern, 

Pedantry, wrong by rules, 

Persecutors, often hypocrites. 

People, remarks on enlightening, 

Philip, King, .... 

Philosophy, a jack of all trades, 

Physiognomists, pickpockets the best, 

Physic, most despised by physicians, - 

Pitt, William, a neat manoeuvre of his, 

Plans, best executed, when, - 

Plagiarism, - 

Politic knave, • 

Poets, seldom original, 

Poor laws, - 

Posthumous charity, - 

Politics and personalities, 

Powerful friends may be too powerful to serve us, 

Prayer, a good one, • 

Profession, abused with safety, when, 

Pride, paradoxical, - 

Pride, miscalculates, ... 

Private vices public benefits^false, 

Prating coxcombs, • 



fag* 
365 
392 
393 
417 
423 
451 
458 
476 

151 

72 
129 

288 
187 
98 
313 
376 
378, 475 
424 

67 
80 
39 
283 
311 
319 
420 
460 

233 
108 

39 
123 
230 
236 
123 
207 
179 
202 

61 
254 

21 
120 
243 
181 
264 
249 
117 

42 
124 

95 
152 



5<?2 



IX DUX. 



Prodigality, the rarest, - 

Property, fiie Oil i; real, 

Pulpit eloquence, ... 

Public events, the moral, 

Pursuits, there is but one that ail can follow, 

Posterity, what has" it doho ibr us, 

Pedantry, 

Philosophy and Poetry^ 

Prudery, " 

Paradox, Scriptural, - 

Pride, - 

Public opinion. 

Iciest and Physician. 

Philosophers, when fools, 

Pleasures, - 

Philosophy, a bufly, - 



19 

tm 
%w 

&7 

T/10 

413 
4t:5 



Quack?, literary ones, 

Quack, when preferable, to a Physician, 

Query, an important one, 

Question, a consolatory one, - 

Questions, staggering on.es, 



257 
170 

vn 

201 



Kenders, three classes, 

Keforrn, a paradox, - 

Keforrners* modern, therr difficulties, - 

Religion, one thing that men wiil not do for it r 

Kepartee, perfect, - 

Reputation established, how, 

Jlepentance repented ol. when, 

Restorations, disappoint the loyal, 

Pv.ever.ge, has no sos. 

Riches, more easily concealed than poverty, 

Peine, pontifical, - 

Ivetrenchrneut, - 

Revenge, - - - - 

Revenge, eoe que rs self love, 

Jvich, a privilege i hey have, - 

Regret, a vain one, - 

Religion, .... 

Risk, when necessary. - 

Riches, seldom got by fools, - 

Kefinement, - 

Ridicule, - 

Religionists, • 

Kovolutioas, - 



253 

r» 

'61 

in 

1*17 

Lr>4 

m 
iu 

La* 
UiZ 
3i£ 

%& 

334 
tyi 

4wS 
4&9 
*33 

434 

447 
477 



Safety, if built on revenge, not safe, 

Skeptics, - 

Scotchmen, good gardeners, 

Secrecy, of design, - 

Secrets, who fondest of thoM, 

Srif-krve, aalratfted of Ik r ovfa nalfte. 



Sf 

|b9 

h 



EC 6-1949 



I N D E X . 



SOS 



Self-importance, a cure for it, 

►sensibility, ... 

Singular, how to be so, .»-'•'. 

flight condescensions, 

Society, semi-civilized, rnoet hospitable, 

SRiftness of demeanour, suspicious, 

Sorrow for sin, effectual, when, - 

Statesmen, not to be envied, - 

Saints, .... 

Speeches, written, - 

Styjfs - 

Soil- know ledge, * 

Seduction • 

Statesmen, 

Systems, • 

Society, .... 

Slander, - 

Systems, of human conduct, - 

Society and Science, - 

T-;.ient, not always successful, 

Talent, histrionic, overpaid, ♦ • 

Talent, compared to treasures. 

Testimony, differs most materially from evidence) 

Theory, One but not firm, 

Threats, the loudest the most harmless, - 

Time, a paradox, ... 

Torture/perVerts the order of things, 

Travelling, 

Truth, powerful, even if defeated. 

Two kinds of men, succeed as public characters. 

Times present, abused, •'-'..- 

Truth, - 

Truth, portionless, ... 

Timotheus, when he demanded a double fee, 

Time assists poets, - 

Threats, 



fag* 
236 
78 

215 

22 
851 

81 
169 

54 
300 
304 
307 
£14 
347 
415 
415 
4.1 f 5 
422 
439 
407 



64 

160 
1GW 

278 

14?> 
251 

861 

367 

304 

423 
455 



Unity of opinion, 



379 



Value, its criterion, 

"Vice, anicidiai, 

Vice has more martyrs than virtue, 

Villains, bad calculators, 

Virtue, without talent, - 

Vanity, differs from pride, 

Vanity, a consolatory thing, * 



184 
116 
191 

83 

27 
340 
359 



War, its evils, 

* a political drama, - 

M a losing game, 
What and who, their difference, • 
Wit captivates, why, 



23 
139 
243 

21 










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